


When the North Wind Blows

by grace_and_lucidity



Series: The Bonds We Can't Untie [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bisexual John Murphy (The 100), Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Hurt Bellamy Blake, Hurt John Murphy, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Protective Bellamy Blake, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24699007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grace_and_lucidity/pseuds/grace_and_lucidity
Summary: Arkadia has enjoyed months of peace after becoming the 13th clan under Lexa’s command. Bellamy has settled in to his life as a father to Madi and a husband to Clarke, but he still has psychological scars from his time as Cage Wallace’s prisoner.When Nia attempts to overthrow Trekru, she is killed by Lexa, but shortly after that Lexa dies from her own wounds. Unrest is building in Polis as Ontari steps in as the new Commander. Having kept Madi’s existence a secret, Clarke and Bellamy, along with the rest of Arkadia, try to develop the best plan to deal with this new reality.Emori has searched for John Murphy for months after his disappearance. When she finally discovers he’s being held captive by Ontari in Polis, she devises a plan to offer a trade: Bellamy for John. Will Murphy and Bellamy be able to work together to survive, will one of them have to sacrifice everything, or will the bad ass women who love them be able to save them both?
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/John Murphy, Emori/John Murphy (The 100)
Series: The Bonds We Can't Untie [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785625
Comments: 45
Kudos: 43





	1. Welcome to Ice Nation

**Author's Note:**

> This story continues where Part 1 left off. You don't necessarily have to read that first, but it explains a lot:) I wanted to really explore the complicated relationship between Bellamy and Murphy in this one. Hope you enjoy. Comments always welcome!  
> THIS IS DARK. Enter at your own risk.  
> TW:\\\ many chapters contain flashbacks or descriptions of violence and/or sexual assault, either implied or actual  
> *******************************************************************************************************************

Clarke walked into the bedroom and smiled. Bellamy had fallen asleep with little Madi on his chest, her tiny hand curled around one of his fingers. Her head was resting on his shoulder, making their dark curls indistinguishable from one another. She had long ago memorized every detail of the planes of his face, the arc of his eyebrows, the scar on his upper lip. But the expression of peace he wore when sleeping was still new to her, the way all his features took on a different light somehow. It had been months since Madi had arrived, months more since he had been imprisoned in Mount Weather. It seemed that his new reality, a life without constant pain and fear, was seeping into his pores and altering him. He had taken to fatherhood with the same enthusiasm and dogged loyalty he had with being a husband and a brother.

She walked softly to the side of the bed, took off her shoes, and nestled in beside them. Bellamy reached over and gave her leg a small squeeze. When they first arrived back at Arkadia, he had seemed to always be seeking contact with her, putting his hand lightly on her shoulder or hip as he fell asleep, needing confirmation that this existence was real. Although she knew he had stopped feeling that insecurity a long time ago, she smiled when he touched her now, lacing her fingers into his and bringing his hand to her lips. A lazy smile appeared on his face.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” she whispered back. “I was helping mom in the lab.”

Bellamy shifted onto his side, cradling Madi as he gently laid her onto the bed and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Madi made a few small fussing sounds, then resumed her sleep.

Bellamy stood and stretched. “I need to get going. The deer don’t like it when I’m late.”

Clarke laughed. She watched him pull his jacket on and felt a pang of desire.

“Do you think the deer could wait just a little longer?” she asked. Bellamy glanced over to see that Clarke had pulled her shirt off and was wriggling out of her pants. He raised his eyebrows and gestured to Madi with his chin.

“We’ll wake up our daughter,” he laughed.

She put her finger to her lips. “Not if we’re quiet.”

Bellamy grinned and pulled his jacket back off. “You’re right. The deer can wait a little longer.”

****************************************************************************

Octavia and Lincoln arrived at the gate of Arkadia. As Clarke approached, she could see the distraught expressions on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“We need to talk to Abby and Kane. There’s been some trouble in Polis.”

“Trouble?” Clarke frowned. “What kind of trouble?”

Octavia took one of Clarke’s hands and squeezed it. “Lexa is dead.”

Stunned, Clarke followed Octavia towards the ship. As Bellamy walked up, he could see the expression of shock and sadness on her face. “Hey,” he grabbed her arm. “What is it?”

Her eyes were filling with tears and she could only shake her head as she continued walking.

Once inside the council room, Clarke, Bellamy, Abby and Kane sat down to listen to what Octavia and Lincoln had to report.

“We’ve known for a while that Nia and her army were considering an overthrow of Lexa,” Lincoln began. “So far, her efforts have failed. Lexa was able to keep the loyalty of all of the other clans.”

Octavia chimed in. “So Nia changed tactics. She started a kind of public relations campaign against Lexa, saying she was too young, too inexperienced,” she paused, “too emotional after her lover returned to Arkadia.” All eyes turned to Clarke, who put her head in her hands. Bellamy put his hand on her shoulder. Octavia continued. “So when she arrived in Polis unannounced, there were a significant number of Lexa’s followers who appeared interested in what she had to offer.”

Bellamy leaned in to Clarke. “Are you okay?” he whispered in her ear. She nodded, but he could tell she wasn’t.

Kane spoke up. “So are we looking at a civil war in Polis now?”

Lincoln frowned. “It’s hard to say. The situation right now is pretty...fluid. Nia challenged Lexa in combat and Lexa prevailed, but suffered injuries. She pronounced Roan the king of Ice Nation, which appeased a lot of the crowd. But,” he paused, “she died the next day from her injuries. That left a void in the command, so a conclave was announced.”

Octavia picked up the story. “Before the conclave could happen, Nia’s Second, Ontari, killed all the other novitiates in their sleep. It was a blood bath,” she was shaking her head. “They were children, all of them.” She clenched her fists at the memory of it.

“Well, so what does that mean?” Abby asked. “Is Ontari the Commander now?”

“In theory, yes,” said Lincoln. He pulled a small package from his pocket. “But without this, she won’t be a legitimate commander.” He pulled the leather covering away and placed the small chip on the table. “Lexa’s Flamekeeper was able to remove this and hand it to Indra before anyone came to prepare the body,” he explained. “Ontari tortured the Flamekeeper, but he refused to tell her where this was. He killed himself that night, so we’re the only ones who know the whereabouts of the Flame.” He looked pointedly at Bellamy. “And the whereabouts of the next Commander.”

Bellamy stood and glared at him. “My daughter is not gonna have that thing put in her head. Ever,” he said flatly. “She’s an infant, for god’s sake.”

“I don’t mean today, Bellamy,” Lincoln said. “But in the future, there’s a real possibility her people will need her.” Bellamy was already shaking his head at that.

“Okay, so aside from the fact that the Flame is now here, what are we going to do without a Commander in the meantime?” Kane asked.

“Right now, Ontari is attempting to position herself as the legitimate commander. Since no one knows the Flame is missing, she can fake it for a little while,” Octavia said.

“Will she be coming after us?” Clarke finally spoke up.

“Not likely,” Octavia answered. “In order to maintain her lie, she’ll have to stay under the radar as much as possible. Trying to stir up a war with one of the 13 clans will test her in ways she probably isn’t ready for. I think we’re safe for now.” She looked to Bellamy. “But she can’t find out about Madi, Bell. She’ll come for her if she does. We all need to be extremely careful.”

Bellamy clenched his jaw and nodded. Clarke took his hand.  
“We’ll keep her safe,” she assured him. “All of us.” The entire group nodded their agreement.

*****************************************************************************

Late that night, Clarke and Bellamy walked together through the apple grove. Bellamy was carrying Madi in his arms, stopping to let her touch any leaf or branch that caught her eye. Wherever her chubby finger pointed, he moved.

She looked upward and made a gurgling sound. Bellamy smiled and pointed to the sky. “That’s the moon, Madi. Can you say ‘moon’?” He moved his finger over slightly, pointing to a twinkling star. “And that’s where mommy and daddy are from,” he kissed the side of her head gently and looked over at Clarke.

“Do you need some time alone?” he asked. He knew she was grieving over Lexa.

She shook her head. “I’m okay,” she said. They stopped walking and turned towards each other.

“I loved her, Bellamy,” she said. “You know that. But I wouldn’t trade anything for this life with you, with Madi. I wouldn’t have chosen differently even knowing this was going to happen. I mean it. I need you to know that.”

Bellamy smiled and nodded. “Okay,” he said. “But I understand if you want to be alone.”

She took his hand. “We wasted too much time being apart. I’m never going to need any more time away from you.” She touched Madi’s cheek tenderly. “This is the only life I can imagine.”

“What do you think will happen now? What do you think we should do?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think we need to stay vigilant, keep Madi safe, and send a message letting them know we’re open to talking about the new order of things.” She frowned. “What about you?”

“I don’t have a good feeling about it,” he confessed. “I’m not going to let anything happen to Madi. I don’t care what it takes.” He wrapped his arm protectively around his tiny daughter. She raised her hand to his face and grabbed his lip. He smiled. “That’s right, little girl. Daddy is going to keep you safe.”

“Da,” said Madi, making them both laugh.

****************************************************************************

Emori hustled through the busy market, brushing off the vendors who called to her, some more aggressively than others. She had nothing she needed from them, nothing she wanted from them. What she wanted was fifty stories above her. She turned her eyes skyward, to the top of the tower, and could almost feel him looking down at the exact spot on which she stood. John had been missing for months, ever since their con had been exposed by the three travelers he had tried to rob. When they had dragged him away, he had given her a warning glance as she crouched in the woods. She hadn’t dared to try and stop them and she hadn’t seen John since.

For weeks, she had followed his trail. Hiding near small villages, listening to rumors and jokes of the thief who was being led to Polis like a dog on a leash. The city was the last place she ever wanted to end up. She thought she’d seen the last of it when she and her brother had been exiled. There were no fond memories here for her, no thoughts of a loving family, a stable home. Only pain, embarrassment, mocking faces and threatening voices. It was the reason she had fallen in love with John Murphy, who unbelievably thought her physical defects were “cool.” He had also shockingly forgiven her for leaving him and his small band of travelers to die in the desert. John had suffered pain and exile in his life too. They fit together, two thieves, two cockroaches, skirting the edges of society and living on the scraps the rest of the world threw away. Emori had become comfortable envisioning a future with this strange man who had literally fallen from the sky and into her life.

Then he’d been taken, and with him, the only chance at happiness in her mind. She had spent days alternating between anger and despair at losing him, ultimately choosing anger. So here she was, in a city she hated, lurking in the shadows while she tried to think of a way to get him back. As if that hadn’t been challenging enough, within two weeks of her arrival in the city, all hell had broken loose. The Ice Queen and the Commander had battled to the death, the winner had also died, and a loose cannon had taken charge of the city. Emori couldn’t bring herself to give a shit who was actually in charge of Polis. She intended to leave it all behind as soon as she had John back. The city could burn to the ground for all she cared.

But it was the loose cannon, Ontari, who now held the key to her future, quite literally. In the aftermath of the chaotic power shift, Emori had been walking the streets, eyes and ears open for any sign of John. As she had rounded a corner, the tower loomed in front of her. She gasped. Three short blocks in front of her, John was being led into the front of the tower between two guards. She nearly cried at the sight of him. He had clearly suffered a great deal since the last time she’d seen him. He looked thinner and exhausted. And yet, as the guards tugged him along, she saw him say something to one of them and then laugh at his own joke.

“Smart ass,” she whispered under her breath. He was still John Murphy.

She positioned herself outside the tower and waited. Hours passed before the guards came back outside, without John. She set a pace behind them and followed them into a dingy tavern where they seated themselves near the back. Emori stopped, ordered a whisky and sat at the small wooden table next to them. She didn’t drink, but knew not to draw attention to herself. Tucking her left hand under the table to hide her deformity, she sipped the whisky slowly, ear turned toward the two men. She didn’t have to wait long before they began talking about Ontari.

“What do you think of the new Commander?” one asked.

“She’s hot,” laughed the other. “But I heard she’s a complete psycho. I almost feel sorry for that poor bastard we took up there to her. She’s gonna eat him alive.”

Emori’s blood was boiling, but she forced herself to sit still, sipping and listening.

“Yeah, well she wants everything the last Commander had,” the other man said. “I mean, what she really wants is that whore that Heda had for about a month last year. Remember him? She asked about him specifically. Apparently, his...skills...were legendary.” They both laughed at that.

“That poor guy got sent back to Mount Weather. He’s probably dead by now. RIP Sky Boy,” they raised a toast to the nameless whore and kept drinking.

John had told her countless stories about the people who had exiled him, from the time they had landed in the drop ship to the point where he had been banished. He had returned even after that, which Emori could never understand. Misguided loyalty or just a deep desire to belong somewhere, anywhere. But he hadn’t stayed that time either. He’d been convinced by Jaha to take a foolhardy journey to the City of Light. But he had been at Arkadia long enough to learn the fate of forty-eight of his people. They’d been imprisoned at Mount Weather. He also told Emori about the fate of the man he hated most, Bellamy Blake. It all clicked in her mind. Emori nursed her drink as long as she could, then slipped out of the tavern, waiting in the shadows for the two men to leave. She followed one of them to his tiny shack, noted it, and moved on.

So John was being held captive by a psycho who was using him for sex. She needed to think. Settling into the small space in between two buildings that afforded her some shelter, she wrapped a thin blanket she’d stolen from another homeless person over herself and schemed long into the night about how to rescue John. By morning, she had a loose version of a plan, and a vital part of that plan was Bellamy.

She waited outside the shack for the guard to come out. As he strode down the street, she followed. He stopped at a vendor stall, flirted with the girl without buying anything, then kept walking. She continued behind him. As he turned onto a less crowded street, Emori caught up with him and touched his arm lightly. He turned, squinted at her.

“Yeah?” he asked gruffly. “How much?”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I want to offer you,” she smiled.

He frowned. “Well, what do you want, then?”

“I have a proposition,” she started. “The Commander has something I want. And I can get her something she wants. Do you want to talk about a trade?”

He leaned against the wall and studied her. “Go on,” he finally said. “I’m listening.”

***************************************************************************

Bellamy watched the deer as it raised its head, perhaps alerted to his presence. He preferred hunting over any other job. He was good at it and he enjoyed the quiet days spent in the woods, and evenings spent with Clarke and Madi. He often thought back to his imprisonment at Mount Weather and how he had, sometimes without hope, fantasized about a future very much like the life he now lived. He was pondering this as well as the new threat facing Arkadia as he watched the deer, unaware that he himself was being watched.

The man crouched silently in the woods twenty yards behind Bellamy as he waited for his next move. He had been following him all morning, biding his time. His orders had been clear, bring him in unharmed, so his fingers itched to grasp the knife in his belt, but instead he waited. Bellamy crawled forward and placed his rifle on a log, leaning in to the sight and gently lacing his finger into the trigger. He fired and the deer dropped soundlessly. Bellamy stood and strode over, laying the rifle at his side as he crouched over the deer. The man heard him murmuring quietly, a prayer of thanks perhaps, as Bellamy cradled the animal’s head in his hands, soothing it as it expired. He then took a knife from his own belt and began dressing the deer, lost in his work so he didn’t hear the near silent footsteps approach. At the last minute he raised his head, but not in time to look around before the man delivered a sharp blow to the back of his head, knocking him unconscious. He knelt down and began working quickly, binding Bellamy’s hands and putting a hood over his head. Hooking his hands under Bellamy’s arms, he dragged him quickly away from the deer and disappeared into the woods.

It was nearly dark as Clarke made her way through the woods where Bellamy had been. He’d said he would be back hours ago.

“Bellamy!” she called.

She nearly tripped on the deer carcass, sending a swarm of flies buzzing around her head. She swatted at them and kneeled down, examining the deer’s body. Her eyes trailed to its head, and she gasped. Bellamy’s knife lay near the animal’s muzzle.

“Shit,” she stood up. “Bellamy where are you?”

*****************************************************************************

_He was breathing hard, tears streaming down his face and onto the metal table he was strapped to. Dozens of tiny needles had been inserted into the muscles along his limbs and the base of his skull. He could feel the electrical impulses they were generating. Electrodes were fastened to his temple._

_“Brain waves indicate we’ve hit his pain receptors,” Tsing said._

_“Increase the signal strength,” Cage responded._

_“Heart rate is 160,” said Tsing, with no apparent emotion._

_“He’ll be fine.” He felt Cage’s hands roaming over his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched and unclenched his fists, the only parts of his body he could move. The hand made its way to his crotch, began stroking his cock._

_“Tell me what you feel,” Cage said. He tried to shake his head, could only clamp his jaw shut in protest._

_“Increase again.” The pain was now intolerable. He screamed. Cage was stroking him with more intensity. “Tell me what you feel,” he repeated._

_“PAIN!” he cried. “I feel pain.” He was panting, sweating, unable to form any more words. “Please...stop,” he gasped._

_“We’ll be finished soon,” Cage’s voice was calm._

_“Pleasure receptors are engaged,” Tsing remarked with clinical indifference._

_“Good,” Cage said, tightening his grip and increasing his pace._

_Bellamy looked into the eyes of his tormentor. “Tell me why you’re doing this,” he pleaded._

_“Because your pain is absolutely exquisite to me. Because I want you to be as moved by your pain as I am.” He smiled and leaned in closer, whispering in his ear. “But mostly just because I can.”_

_He shut his eyes and envisioned himself underwater, grasping at a rope dangling in front of him, only to have it slip further away. He could feel the pressure in his lungs as he longed to take a breath, knowing it would mean certain death. Swimming in this sea of pain, the rope of reality disappearing into the murky water, his arousal building as he opened his mouth to breathe. He no longer cared if he drowned, he just needed it to end._

******************************************************************************

A scream escaped his mouth as Bellamy leaped into consciousness, his heart racing, his face against a hard floor. His hands were secured in iron cuffs in front of him. As he raised his head slightly, he felt a cold weight around his neck. Bringing his hands to his neck, he discovered he was wearing an iron collar. Rolling slowing onto his back, he shifted his gaze to the wall and saw a chain leading from the collar to a hook imbedded in the wall. He had been stripped to his underwear, he had a pounding headache and his vision was blurry.

His first thought was disbelief. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered under his breath. He struggled to a sitting position and took in his surroundings. It was cold, very cold. He was in a large room with a wood burning stove in one corner and a large, ornate bed against the wall. The opposite wall had two floor-to-ceiling windows that were covered with shabby velvet drapes. They were closed so he couldn’t tell if it was day or night outside. He looked up to see wooden beams spanning the ceiling, and his eyes caught on what looked like an ornate set of ropes snaking through the beams and dangling down at various intervals. He knew instantly where he was. He had spent weeks in this room as Lexa’s captive.

He jumped when he heard a voice coming from the shadows on the other side of the bed.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You’re awake. Good.” A figure stepped into the dim light.

“Murphy?” Bellamy asked. He shook his head. Clearly, he was still asleep, caught in some surreal nightmare. And yet, he could smell embers from the fire, the dust accumulated from years of clinging to the velvet drapes. He squinted at Murphy, wondering why he was still just standing on the other side of the bed.

“Can you come over here?” he asked.

Murphy shook his head. “No can do.” He raised his hands to show that he too was bound in iron cuffs and gestured to an iron collar around his neck which, when he turned, Bellamy could see was chained to the wall behind him.

“What the fuck, Murphy! Why are you here?”

“For the same reason you are, I’m guessing.” Murphy gave Bellamy his typical sardonic smile. “Welcome to Ice Nation.”


	2. Will You Bite the Hand that Feeds?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Murphy and Bellamy to survive as cell mates, they have a lot of issues to work through. Ontari expects compliance from Bellamy, but he has much different ideas. Emori realizes she's been double-crossed and has to come up with Plan B, and Clarke is coming after whoever took her husband.

************************************************************************************************************

Bellamy stared at Murphy. “Ice Nation,” he repeated.

“Yep,” said Murphy. “Compliments of a pretty impressive coup d’etat if you ask me.”

“You mean the one where Nia’s second in command massacred children?” Bellamy said with disgust.

Murphy gave him a strange look. “News travels fast, I guess. Her name is Ontari. You’ll be meeting her soon. I suggest you try to make a good first impression.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Bellamy stood slowly, his head was still pounding. He looked down at his state of undress and back up at Murphy. “You mind telling me how I got like this?”

Murphy shrugged. “You were out cold when they dragged you in here. I don’t know who took your clothes, but I wouldn’t expect to get them back any time soon. Or ever. Things have a way of disappearing around here. Clothes. Morals. Dignity.”

Bellamy huffed out a frustrated sigh. He began fiddling with the wrist cuffs, trying to use his teeth to wrench the metal pin out that held it tightly closed.

“I tried that, too,” Murphy said. “No luck.”

“Murphy, are you gonna say anything helpful?” Bellamy barked. “Because if not, then shut the fuck up.”

“Sure, I’ll give you some advice,” Murphy said. “When Ontari walks in that door, you better be ready to just accept that she’s in charge. You resist, you suffer. So when she asks you to do something, if you’re smart, you’ll do it. You can hate yourself later.”

Bellamy frowned. “What do you mean? What’s she going to ask me to do?”

Another infuriating shrug from Murphy. “Who knows. She gets off on a whole lot of different shit. I speak from experience when I say that fucking her is gonna be your least painful option.”

There was a long silence as Bellamy considered this. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” he finally said.

“Okay,” Murphy blew out a sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He threw himself onto the bed and put his bound hands behind his head, looking as relaxed as he would if he were on a beach in the sun.

Bellamy walked closer to the bed and sat on the floor with his back to the wall.

“How long have you been here?” he asked.

“I don’t know, exactly,” Murphy responded. “I kinda lost track. A few weeks maybe. Before that I was being led around on the end of a rope by these crazy bastards I tried to rob.”

Bellamy raised his eyebrow. “You were robbing grounders...and they’re the crazy ones?” He shook his head. “You never were the sharpest tool in the box, Murphy.”

“Hey,” Murphy mocked indignation. “If you think you’re smarter than me, let me point out that we’re both here, in chains, imprisoned by a psycho bitch.”

Bellamy scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“Yeah,” Murphy drawled. “That’s what I used to say. You can fight all you want, Blake. But in the end, you’ll be getting fucked. You might as well save your energy.” Murphy rolled onto his side and looked down at Bellamy. “Look, man. As long as you keep her satisfied in bed, you keep her mind off darker shit. And believe me, there is a lot of seriously dark shit going on in her head.”

“Did she really kill all those kids?” Bellamy asked softly. His heart hurt for the children Ontari had slain, and he felt a lump in his throat thinking about Madi back at Arkadia.

Murphy nodded. “She did. According to rumor, she didn’t want to take any chances with a legitimate conclave, even though she was older and more experienced than any of her challengers. So, she killed them all in their sleep.”

Bellamy looked at his hands. “And how did Lexa die?” he asked. He had never had any emotional connection to Lexa, but the death of his daughter’s biological mother and his wife’s former lover was weighing on him. 

“That was equally brutal,” Murphy said. “The Ice Queen also didn’t want to take any chances at a loss in battle, so the spear she used was poisoned. All she had to do was scratch her opponent and wait for it to happen.” He frowned. “It didn’t happen fast enough for her to live to see it, though. Lexa won, pronounced Roan king, and then collapsed. She died a few hours later.”

There was a long silence.

“Did you ever meet her?” Murphy asked.

“Lexa?” said Bellamy. “Yes,” he faltered. “I did. She was...an impressive leader.”

“And is it true she and Clarke were...ya know?” Murphy asked, a sly smile spreading across his face.

Bellamy huffed out a sigh. “Yeah, it’s true.”

Murphy whistled. “Damn, they made quite a pair, I bet. Ah well. Love and war. Two things I try to avoid at all costs.”

At that moment, the door opened and a petite brunette woman walked in, flanked by two fierce looking men. Murphy leaped off the bed and stood at attention, which the young woman ignored. She strode over to stand directly in front of Bellamy, who remained seated on the floor. “Stand up,” she commanded. Bellamy looked up at her and remained still. The two men approached him, grabbed his arms and yanked him to his feet.

“What’s your name?” she barked at him.  
Bellamy gave her a defiant stare. “My name is Bellamy Blake. I’m from Arkadia. And you’re breaking a treaty by holding me prisoner.”

Ontari’s eyes widened at that, then she laughed. “Bellamy Blake?” She looked at Murphy. “The man you’ve spoken of?”

Murphy gave a small nod. “Yes, Heda.”

“You never told me he served as the Commander’s whore.”

“Uh...yeah, that’s news to me, too,” Murphy said, giving Bellamy a quizzical look.

Her gaze travelled slowly up and down Bellamy’s body. “What a small world. Wouldn’t you say?”

Bellamy set his jaw and glared at her. “I’m not a whore. And if you don’t want to start a war, you’ll release me.”

She ignored this and smiled. “Oh, you were legendary. We heard about you all the way back at Ice Nation. I’d go to bed at night, pleasuring myself with fantasies of the Commander’s beautiful concubine with the body of a god and the face of an angel.”

Murphy’s eye roll could be seen from across the room.

“And here you are, in the flesh.” Ontari moved slowly around Bellamy, never taking her eyes off him. “Lexa had excellent taste, I’ll give her that.” When she was standing behind him, he could feel her tracing one of the scars on his back with a delicate touch.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a souvenir from the last asshole who thought he could break me,” Bellamy replied.

She let out a slow breath. “I need to be careful then, huh?” she smiled.

Murphy was watching the exchange with interest. He had to hand it to Bellamy, he was still a ballsy son of a bitch, even standing in nothing but his underwear.

Ontari made her way back around to face him.

“Remove the collar and cuffs,” she instructed. As soon as the heavy iron ring dropped from his neck, Bellamy lunged at her. The larger man behind him wrapped his thick arm around Bellamy’s neck in a choke hold and squeezed. Bellamy struggled, then stilled. The second man approached and stepped directly in front of him. Both men took a step forward, sandwiching Bellamy tightly between them. The guard in front reached down to unfasten the cuffs on his wrists. Bellamy glared at him and remained silent as the man groped his crotch roughly with one hand and worked the lock with the other. Once the cuffs were off, he stepped aside.

“I’d like you to kneel,” Ontari said. Bellamy narrowed his eyes and remained standing. The man still holding him in a choke hold kicked the back of one of his knees, causing his legs to buckle, and forced him to his knees. Sweeping one of Bellamy’s feet into an awkward sideways angle, he placed his knee down hard on Bellamy’s ankle, making him wince. He grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of his head and shoved his face into the floor. The first man squatted down and grabbed Bellamy’s wrists, pulling his arms out straight in front of him. Ontari retrieved a wooden stool and sat down in front of him.

“When Heda tells you to kneel, you kneel. Got it?” The man in front of him said. They held him in this position in silence for several long minutes until Ontari gave them a small nod and they released him. Bellamy rose to his knees, glancing at Murphy, who gave a shake of his head.

“Are you ready to be more agreeable?” Ontari asked, studying his face.

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Good. Tell me where you’ve been since you left Polis. Everyone here thought you must be dead.”  
“I was sent back to Mount Weather,” Bellamy replied. “I was there for a few more months before I escaped and went back home.”

“To Arkadia?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And what is your role at Arkadia? Are you a leader there?”

Bellamy considered this for a minute. “I’m just...I’m not a leader, no. I’m on the council. I hunt.”

Ontari leaned forward. “So do you really think they’re going to start a war over you?” she asked.

 _My wife is Wanheda_ , Bellamy thought to himself. _Goddamn right she’ll start a war._ _If she finds me._

“You’re violating an agreement by holding me prisoner here. They would be within their right to,” he said.

Ontari brushed this comment off. “That was an agreement between Arkadia and the former Commander,” she said. She reached out a hand and stroked Bellamy’s head. He flinched away from her.

“I think you’ll need some training,” she sighed. “Clearly you’ve forgotten how to serve a Commander.”

“I don’t serve anyone,” Bellamy snarled. “Especially not child killers.”

“Prepare him,” Ontari said as she rose from her stool. The man behind him brought his own arms under Bellamy’s and locked his hands behind Bellamy’s head, yanking him to his feet. The second man reached for one of the ropes in the rafters, binding one of Bellamy’s wrists tightly. He walked around and did the same on the second one. Each man stepped to the side and began pulling the ropes until Bellamy’s body was lifted from the floor and he was barely touching it with his toes, his arms spread wide over his head.

Ontari brought two small blocks of wood over and placed them in front of him, slightly wider than his shoulders.

“Step up on these,” she instructed. Bellamy appeared to be deciding if he wanted to balance precariously on the wooden supports or risk dislocating his shoulders. In the end, he chose the blocks, sighing in relief at the reduced pressure. Ontari nodded and the men secured the ropes to vertical posts on either side of the room. Murphy stood in silence.

“Release him,” Ontari said to the two men, gesturing to Murphy. One of them walked over and unlocked Murphy’s collar and cuffs.

“Come here, John,” she motioned for him to join her. Murphy walked hesitantly over and stood beside her.

“You’ve been a loyal servant to me,” she said. “So I’m going to reward you.”

“What?” Murphy said, his eyes wide. “I don’t...”

“This is the man who tried to hang you, isn’t it?” she asked. Murphy bit his lip and nodded.

“The man who banished you from your home?” He nodded again. Bellamy was watching Ontari but said nothing.

“You’ve told me before how much you wanted revenge.”

Murphy began shaking his head. “I’m good. Really. I’m...over it.”

Ontari handed Murphy a long bamboo cane. “Time to establish your authority,” she said.

Bellamy shifted his gaze to John. “Murphy, don’t do this.” Murphy could see real fear in Bellamy’s eyes. It was a look he had longed to see a year ago, when the bastard thought he was in charge of everyone and everything. Now it just filled him with a queasy uncertainty. He didn’t like it.

“You need to show him that you’re the one in control now,” Ontari smiled. “So take that cane and beat him.”

Regret flashed briefly through his mind as he wrapped his hands around the cane.

“God damn you, Murphy,” Bellamy whispered, shaking his head.

“God damned me a long time ago, Bellamy. I really am sorry. But I don’t take orders from you anymore,” Murphy said. He stepped behind him, raised the cane like a baseball bat and swung, striking Bellamy across the back. Bellamy clenched his teeth and shut his eyes. Trying to balance on the blocks meant he had to lean in to the strike rather than move to avoid it.

“Harder, John,” Ontari barked. “You need to dominate him.”

Murphy took aim and swung hard, this time making Bellamy huff in pain.

“Again,” she commanded. He complied. Ontari’s eyes were raking up and down Bellamy’s body and Murphy saw a sadistic smile slowly appear on her face. She stepped forward and ran her hand slowly over his crotch, tracing her fingers along his waistband before thrusting her hand in. Bellamy inhaled sharply.

“Bellamy, you’re full of surprises,” she laughed. “Again, John.”

Murphy felt a pang of something in his gut, a warning that he should stop. He knew he couldn’t. He swung again. Ontari was gripping Bellamy’s cock tightly when the cane made contact and he involuntarily bucked his hips into her grasp.

Murphy moved around to Bellamy’s side and as he lowered his eyes, he immediately understood what Bellamy had been desperate to prevent and why Ontari was so obviously thrilled. He had never felt like a lower piece of shit then he did at that moment.

“Maybe we should all just take a breath,” he suggested nervously.

Bellamy’s head was hanging down and he was breathing hard, Ontari’s hand still wrapped around his cock.

“We’re going to have so much fun together,” she said. Bellamy raised his head and spit in her face. Murphy stepped back, the cane hanging loosely in his hands. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

Ontari raised an eyebrow as she withdrew her hand from him, stepped back and wiped saliva from her face. Without warning, she punched Bellamy hard in the face. His head snapped back with the force and he teetered precariously on the blocks before his right foot slipped off. There was a sickening snap as Bellamy’s left shoulder dislocated. He let out a howl of pain.

Ontari moved closer to Bellamy, reached out her hand and traced a finger through the blood running down his face. She licked her finger and smiled. “You will submit to me, Bellamy. You will serve me just as you served Lexa. It’s up to you how much you want to suffer before you do.”

Bellamy licked the blood from his lower lip and smiled at her. “You’re not half the commander Lexa was,” he whispered.

Enraged, Ontari backed away from him. “John, give me that cane.” Murphy hesitated for a split second but she grabbed it from his hand, breaking it in half over her knee. She began hitting Bellamy rapidly in a series of short, powerful strikes. He grunted with each strike, but never cried out, which seemed to anger her even more.

Eventually tiring from the effort, she threw the cane on the ground and turned away.

“He stays like this until dinner.” She walked out with the two guards behind her.

The door locked from the outside and the only sound in the room was Bellamy’s labored breathing. Murphy approached him cautiously. He had several bleeding lacerations on his back and his shoulder was twisted at a hideous angle.

“Bellamy?” he asked quietly. “You okay?” Silence.

“How long?” Bellamy finally rasped.

“What?”

“She said...until dinner. How long?” he panted, grimacing in pain.

“Uh, a few hours,” Murphy sighed. He walked to the table where a pitcher of water sat, poured some in a cup and brought it back to Bellamy. He held it to his lips and Bellamy drank, eyeing him angrily over the edge as he swallowed.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t know. And Ontari wouldn’t have let me just tell her no anyway. I’ve spent the last few weeks learning the hard way that I don’t have that option.” He found a piece of fabric on the bed and tore a section of it off, pouring some more water onto it. Walking behind Bellamy, he brought the rag up to one of the bleeding wounds.

“Don’t you fucking touch me, Murphy!” Bellamy shouted.

“I just...it looks pretty bad. At least let me clean it up a little. Maybe it won’t get infected,” Murphy said. “Please?”

When Bellamy didn’t say anything, Murphy began to gently wipe some of the blood off his back. There was nothing he could do for the shoulder.

“So much for first impressions, I guess,” he said as he worked.

Once it was fairly clean, he inspected the cuts. “Looks like you’ll live to fight another day,” he said. He walked back in front of Bellamy. “What the hell were you thinking? I told you she’d make you suffer. You should have just...”

“Should have what? Given in? Groveled at her feet? I’m not going to be her goddamn whore, Murphy,” Bellamy said.

Murphy considered this for a long time.

“You think I’m weak, don’t you?” he asked.

Bellamy glared at him. “I think you’re a fucking cockroach. And yes, I think you’re weak,” he spat.

Murphy frowned. “You’re in a lot of pain, so I’ll let the insults slide. But I think once you’ve spent as much time in here as I have, you’ll turn into a cockroach, too. Because just like me, you’ll be living in the shadows, and no one will know or care if you get stepped on.” He turned and walked back to the bed, throwing himself on his back. “At least I don’t get a hard-on while I’m getting my ass beat. Fucking freak,” he muttered.

For the next two hours, he watched as Bellamy appeared to be dozing off, only to jerk back awake, groaning at any slight movement in his shoulder. He pretended not to hear him.

*****************************************************************************

Emori stayed outside the tower for 48 hours, until it became clear to her that she had been double-crossed. John wasn’t being released. Her contact failed to show up at the scheduled time and the tower where he was being held was heavily guarded. She couldn’t just walk up and demand entry.

An hour later, she knocked on the door of the guard she had negotiated with, a knife held shakily in her good hand. He was slow to respond and when he opened the door, the reek of cheap alcohol wafted out with him. He appeared not to recognize her, just leaned on the doorframe and stared at her.

“We had a deal,” she said, mustering up more courage than she felt.

Recognition finally crossed his face. “Oh, yeah. You’re the little lady missing her lover,” he laughed. “Sorry, hon. It looks like the Commander just preferred to add to her collection of fuck toys. I don’t think you’ll be getting him back. I did get a nice little monetary reward for bringing that Arkadian whore to her, though. So thanks for that.” He jingled a handful of coins in his pocket.

Emori crossed her arms and glared at him.

“But, hey,” he continued. “If you’re lonely, I could probably help you out.” He leered at her and lunged forward. Emori sidestepped him and lashed out with the knife, slicing his forearm.

“You bitch!” he yelled. He grabbed for her again, lurching drunkenly and falling face first into the dirt. Before he could right himself, Emori threw herself on his back and rammed the knife into his throat. She held his face into the dirt until he stopped moving, pulled the coins out of his pocket, then rose and snuck into his hut. There, she rummaged through his meager belongings and stuffed anything of value into her pockets. Stepping over his body, she ran into the darkness further towards the outskirts of Polis. Once she was out of town, she slowed to a walk, trying to clear her head and formulate her next move. Hearing footsteps, she ducked into the brush, watching as a group of Ice Nation warriors tramped through on the way to Polis.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered under her breath, pacing back and forth in the road leading out of town. She knew where she had to go.

*****************************************************************************

“Shit, shit, shit,” Clarke muttered, pacing back and forth inside her room. She was cradling Madi, who was fussing about being woken early from her nap.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” she whispered, kissing her head. “I know. You miss daddy. I do, too.” She kept pacing, rocking the little girl gently.

Octavia burst in. “Clarke, what the hell is going on. Where’s Bellamy?”

Clarke gave her a worried look. “I don’t know,” she said. “I went looking for him when he didn’t come back from his hunting trip last night.” She sighed, shifted Madi to her other side. “I found the deer he killed, but he was gone.” She bit her lip. “I searched the area until daylight.”

Octavia sat on the bed and held her arms up and Clarke handed Madi to her. “So we’re getting a search party together?” she asked. Clarke nodded. “I’ll go tell Lincoln,” Octavia said.

“Octavia. I need you to stay here with Madi,” Clarke said.

“No way. I’m going after my brother,” Octavia replied. “Clarke, you need me.”

“I do. I need you to keep Madi safe. You know the risk of leaving her without proper protection.” Clarke said. “You and Lincoln are the best people for the job.”

Octavia considered this, then nodded slowly. She held Madi up close to her face and kissed her nose. “You want to stay with Auntie O?” she asked.

“O,” Madi repeated. Octavia gave her a big smile, but her eyes remained worried.

“Just find my brother, Clarke,” she said.

“I will.”


	3. We'll Always Have Polis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emori finds Clarke and the two join together on their mission. Bellamy discovers he'll have to rely on Murphy for a lot of things. Murphy definitely has some feelings he's been keeping to himself for a while.

**************************************************************************************************************************

Clarke, Miller, Monty and Harper made their way along the path towards Polis. Clarke led the small group, eyes darting back and forth through the woods on either side. Miller, gun drawn, brought up the rear. They had been combing the woods for hours, with the sun starting to set. Miller caught up with Clarke.

“We’re gonna have to stop for the night soon,” he reminded her.

“I know,” she said sharply. “But as long as I can see anything, I’m going to keep looking. We have about half an hour till dark.”

Miller sighed and kept walking.

“Hey!” Harper yelled. “In the woods,” she was pointing to a fleeing form to her right. Miller sprinted into the woods with Clarke close behind. It was easy enough for Miller to catch up with the smaller hooded figure, and he lunged, bringing the person down with a grunt.

Clarke caught up just as he was rolling the person over onto their back. They were both surprised to see a young woman with tattoos on her face. She tried to hide her hand and Miller caught it, assuming she had a weapon. He pulled the wrapping off to reveal her malformed hand, and her expression changed from panic to anger, back to panic. She started to struggle underneath his weight.

“It’s okay,” Clarke said. “We don’t want to hurt you. We’re looking for our friend. Maybe you can help?”

The woman glared at her and said nothing. Clarke stooped down and smiled at her. “I’m Clarke,” she said. “What’s your name?”

“Clarke?” the woman was now looking confused. “Clarke Griffin?”

Clarke frowned. “Yes. You know me?”

“I was coming to find you,” the woman said. “I need your help, too. My name is Emori.”

“Okay, Emori. Maybe we can help each other,” Clarke said as Miller pulled her to her feet. “My husband is missing. Can you tell me if you’ve seen anyone out here? He’s tall, dark curly hair.”

“He’s your husband?” Emori asked quietly.  
“You’ve seen him?” Clarke asked eagerly.

Emori nodded. “I know where he is. They took him to Polis. He’s being held in the tower with John.”

“John?” Miller repeated.

Emori nodded again. “John Murphy, my...friend.”

“Murphy is alive?” Clarke asked in surprise.

“Murphy has friends?” asked Miller, equally mystified. Emori jerked her arm out of Miller’s grip and dusted herself off.

“Yeah, he’s alive. No thanks to any of you,” she added.

“Okay, tell us what you know,” said Clarke. “We’ll help each other.”

“They took John to the new Commander,” Emori said.

“Ontari?” Clarke asked.

Emori nodded. “She’s holding him hostage. I’ve heard rumors that he’s her...concubine.”

Clarke frowned. “And Bellamy?” she felt queasy as she waited for the response.

“He was brought there for the same reason,” Emori said.

Clarke’s face clouded over with rage. “God damn it,” she said under her breath. “He cannot be put through this again. We have to get him out of there.”

Miller was already nodding his head. “Agreed. Let’s move.”

Clarke turned to Emori. “You’ll come with us?”

“I will, but I can’t go back into the city. I might be recognized. Let’s walk. I’ll fill you in on what I know.” She stopped walking. “Will you help John, too?”

Clarke nodded. “We’re going to figure out how to get both of them out of there, okay?”

The small group continued on the path to Polis.

************************************************************************

Bellamy drifted in and out of a pain-induced haze for the next few hours as he waited to be released. Murphy had been silent on the bed behind him for the entire time, so Bellamy had no idea if he was asleep or awake. He felt an urgent need to piss.

“Murphy?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” came a groggy reply.

“I, uh, I could use some help.”

Murphy rose slowly, stretched and walked over into Bellamy’s view.

“What is it?” he asked.

Bellamy’s face burned with shame. “I really need to piss.”

Murphy almost gave a sarcastic response but Bellamy’s humiliated expression softened him. He nodded.

“Yeah, okay.” He walked over to the corner of the room and picked up a bucket.

Bellamy shook his head as Murphy stood in front of him. He closed his eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Murphy shrugged. “You ready? This is about to get personal.” He waited for a nod from Bellamy, pulled him free from his underwear, and held the bucket up close.

Bellamy sighed as he relieved himself into the bucket.

“Long way from ‘whatever the hell we want,’ isn’t it?” Murphy quipped as he carried the bucket back to the corner and began washing his hands over the basin.

“Yeah,” said Bellamy. “It is.”

Murphy picked up a rag and wiped his hands as he gave Bellamy a curious look.

“So, who’s Madi?” he asked.

Bellamy’s heart lurched. “W-what?” he stuttered.

“Madi,” Murphy repeated. “You said her name a couple of times when you were zoning out over here. Is she...someone special?” He frowned at the panic that flashed across Bellamy’s face.

“No,” he said quickly. “She was...a kid. A kid I met in Mount Weather.” He paused. “She, uh, she died.”

Murphy raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “How’s the shoulder?” He could see it had turned dark purple and looked painfully swollen.

“Not good,” Bellamy said.

They both jumped at the sudden entrance of Rivo and Bayliss, Ontari’s two guards.

“Dinner time,” said Rivo who was carrying a large platter and a bottle. John stepped away and ducked his head as he approached to put the food on the table. Bayliss had a bundle of clothes in his hand, which he tossed on the ground near Bellamy.

His eyes travelled up Bellamy’s body, slowing on his damaged shoulder before settling on his mouth.

“Who’s hungry?” he asked. He tapped two fingers on Bellamy’s lips. When Bellamy attempted to move his head away, he grabbed his lower jaw with his other hand and squeezed.

“You wanna stay strung up like this the rest of the night?” he asked.

“Come on, guys. He’s had enough for one day,” Murphy said, taking a tentative step forward. Rivo blocked his movement and shook his head. Murphy froze.

Bellamy parted his lips slowly and Bayliss shoved two fingers in, pressing down on the back of his tongue and making him gag.

“Now suck,” he commanded. When Bellamy hesitated, Bayliss kicked at one of the wood blocks he was standing on and Bellamy winced at the shift in his shoulder.

“I said suck,” he repeated. Bellamy hollowed his cheeks to apply suction to Bayliss’s thick fingers as he began plunging them in and out of his mouth.

“Hey, did you hear they found Tybe with his throat cut last night?” Rivo asked. 

“Oh yeah?” Bayliss said, continuing to work Bellamy’s mouth with his fingers. “He probably got caught fucking someone’s wife again.” He smiled. “At least the stupid bastard got you here before he died,” he said to Bellamy.

“Mth...fh,” Bellamy growled and thrashed his head.

“Shhhh shhh.” He inserted a third finger and continued pumping for a few more minutes before pulling them out and dragging them slowly down his chin. Reaching behind Bellamy, he gave his ass a squeeze.

“Good boy,” he smirked. He turned and motioned to Murphy, who stepped around Rivo and joined him.

“Have a taste,” Bayliss said, gesturing to Bellamy. Murphy’s eyes widened.

“No!” he blurted out. “I’m...uh...no, thank you.” He stammered.

Bayliss smacked him hard on the back of his head. “I wasn’t asking,” he said flatly. Rivo snorted.

Murphy was visibly shaking as he stepped in close to Bellamy, who was watching him with an unreadable expression. Murphy raised his right hand and ran it behind Bellamy’s head, applying enough pressure so he wouldn’t move his injured shoulder and cause him more pain. His fingers found their way into the soft curls at the nape of his neck and his thumb sank gently into the hollow behind his jaw. He could feel Bellamy’s pulse, strong and fast beneath the heel of his palm. He brought his other thumb up and wiped away the strand of saliva that Bayliss had trailed down Bellamy’s chin. Standing on the blocks, Bellamy was a couple of inches taller, so that Murphy had to tilt his head up to bring his mouth to Bellamy’s. As he leaned in, Bellamy unexpectedly tilted his own head to the side slightly and parted his lips, yielding to Murphy’s own.

The second thing Murphy didn’t expect was how incredibly soft Bellamy’s lips were. He tested Bellamy’s mouth with his tongue, felt Bellamy open himself more. His hand pressed harder, his tongue worked deeper. His cock twitched in his pants and a small moan accidentally escaped his throat. He was brought back to reality by the harsh laughter of the guards and a hand grabbing the back of his hair roughly and pulling him away. Bellamy was still watching him, still opaque with his emotions.

“Alright, lover boy,” Bayliss said. “Time’s up. You can get him down and dressed.” They started for the door. He turned back and said, “unless you want to keep him like that.” The door locked behind them.

As soon as they were gone, Murphy grabbed a stool and stepped up on it, trying to untie the binds around Bellamy’s wrists. He started with the right arm.

“Okay, as soon as I get this off, I want you to wrap your arm around me,” he said. Bellamy nodded, standing patiently while Murphy worked on the knot. Within a minute, he had it loosened and Bellamy’s wrist was free. He grimaced as his weight shifted and pain shot through his shoulder.

“I got you,” Murphy said. “Hold onto me.” He waited for Bellamy to wrap his arm tight around his shoulders then lifted up as much as he could to take the weight off Bellamy’s wrist that was still bound. In this awkward position, he began working to untie the other knot. His eyes caught the inside of Bellamy’s wrist as he worked and he frowned, ready to ask Bellamy about what he saw, but the knot came free and Bellamy nearly collapsed onto him as he teetered on the stool.

“Step down,” Murphy said. Bellamy stepped back off the blocks, still holding Murphy tightly. Once he was on the ground, he was able to let go. His legs buckled and he hit the floor, groaning. Murphy squatted down next to him.

“We need to get your shoulder set,” he said. Bellamy nodded. “Scoot back against the wall,” Murphy directed. He got up and started rummaging in the fireplace.

Once Bellamy was sitting with his back pressed to the wall, Murphy handed him a small stick of wood.

“Bite down on this,” he said, placing it Bellamy’s mouth. “This is gonna hurt.”

Bellamy was breathing fast, anticipating what was coming. He extended his legs out straight in front of him and Murphy kneeled down and straddled Bellamy’s thighs, pressing both of his hands flat against the shoulder joint.

“Okay, on the count of three, I’m gonna push.” Bellamy closed his eyes, clamped down on the stick and nodded.

“One...” Murphy shoved hard and felt a violent crunch under his palms as the shoulder snapped back into the joint. Bellamy let out an agonized groan around the stick in his mouth. His eyes flew open.

“Sorry,” Murphy said. “But it worked.”

He helped Bellamy into the pants Bayliss had brought in and pulled a shirt over his head. Then, he stood up and returned with fabric which he worked on with his teeth until he could tear it into strips. He adjusted Bellamy’s arm close up to his body and wrapped a makeshift sling around it.

“That’s the best I can do, I’m afraid,” he said. Bellamy was silent the entire time. "Oh! One more thing." Murphy walked over to the fireplace, pulled one of the stones aside to reveal a hidden cavity. He stuck his hand in and started pulling small round pebbles out and placing them in a square of cloth. Wrapping them tightly, he brought it over and held it up to Bellamy's shoulder. The pebbles had been exposed to the outdoor air and were freezing cold. Bellamy sighed in relief as the cold hit his swollen shoulder. 

"Thanks, Murphy,” he finally said. “I’m sorry about earlier. I...”

Murphy waved him off. “Forget it. Let’s eat.” He stood, reached his hand to Bellamy’s good arm and hauled him to his feet.

“One of the perks of being Ontari’s captive. I’m well fed,” he gestured to the table where there was a large portion of roast venison, stewed apples, and bread. Only then did Bellamy realized how hungry he was and the pain in his shoulder was momentarily forgotten. They sat down and began eating.

Murphy opened the bottle, poured some of its contents into each of the two glasses and pushed one across the table. Bellamy picked it up, sniffed it, and made a face.

“What the hell is this?” he asked.

“Some kind of Azgeda moonshine,” he said.

“Does it taste better than it smells?”

“No, it tastes like piss. But it’ll knock you on your ass. And you look like you could use a drink,” Murphy said. “It’ll make you forget how much pain you’re in.”

Bellamy swirled the glass, shrugged, and threw it back in one swallow, coughing and sputtering. “Agghhh. It does taste like piss.” He pushed the glass back towards Murphy. “Give me another one.”

Murphy laughed and poured. He tipped his own glass to Bellamy. “Here’s to forgetting pain.”

Bellamy downed a second glass. “Tell me how you ended up here,” he said.

Murphy smiled. “I have had a long and treacherous journey,” he said. “You want the whole story or just the last few weeks?”

“The whole thing,” Bellamy said. “We have time.”

Over the next hour, Murphy relayed what had happened since he had last seen Bellamy, including his failed journey with Jaha to the City of Light.

“Is Jaha still preaching at Arkadia?” he asked Bellamy.

Bellamy nodded. “Yeah, he’s gained a few followers, but so far he just seems like a harmless religious fanatic.”

“The only good part of that stupid trip was meeting Emori,” Murphy said.

“Who’s Emori?”

“The woman I love,” Murphy said matter-of-factly. Bellamy grinned at him.

“John Murphy has fallen in love,” he said.

“You should see her, Bellamy. She’s beautiful. She has these badass tattoos on her face, big brown eyes,” he smiled at the memory of the girl he still yearned for.

“Where is she now?” Bellamy asked. Murphy shrugged.

“She’s smarter than I am, so I’m assuming she’s far from here,” he said. Bellamy could tell he touched a nerve.

“Hey. You’ll see her again. When you get out of here,” he said. Murphy gave him a curious look and shook his head.

“You’re way too much of an optimist, in my opinion,” he said. “So, your turn. Fill me in on your year.”

Bellamy, slightly drunk by this point, began his own story, beginning with the failed attempt to free their friends at Mount Weather, Clarke’s time spent with Lexa, and his long period of captivity.

“I was a prisoner for eight months,” he said. “I was used as a whore and a lab rat.”

“By who?” Murphy asked.

“Cage Wallace, the President of Mount Weather. He was a psychopath. He grew up without a mother, without siblings, without friends. He saw me as an object to practice all of his darkest curiosities on. He got help from his head medic, Dr. Tsing. Both of them were monsters.”

“What do you mean by lab rat?” Murphy asked.

Bellamy appeared to be struggling with his explanation for a long time.

“They experimented on me, trained me to get aroused by the pain Cage inflicted. They used drugs, shock treatments, I don’t know what they did to my brain. I’m not a doctor, but I know they fucked me up.”

“How so?” Murphy asked.

“Cage loved beating me, fucking me, humiliating me. But his favorite thing was making me beg him to do it.” Bellamy cleared his throat and continued. “So I understand when you say you aren’t given the choice to say no.”

“Shit, Bellamy. I don’t know what to say.”

Bellamy nodded. “I was doing better. Fewer nightmares. But, if today proves anything, it’s that I’m as fucked up as I ever was.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the club,” Murphy laughed sarcastically.

He downed his second glass and looked at Bellamy, trying to form his question.

“What is it, Murphy?” Bellamy finally asked.

He hesitated, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. He eventually just blurted it out.

“So, are we going to talk about...”

  
“No,” Bellamy said flatly. “We’re not.”

“Okay, okay,” Murphy said. “It’s just that...”

“They wanted a show. We gave them a show,” Bellamy said. “That’s it.”

Murphy nodded. “Right. Yeah.” He reached across the table and touched the inside of Bellamy’s wrist lightly. There was a very small tattoo of two hands joined together.

“Why don’t we talk about this, then?” he asked. “When did you get married?”

Bellamy gave him a curious smile. “A few months ago.”

“Unbelievable,” Murphy shook his head and laughed. “Bellamy ‘are-you-ladies-into-a-three-way’ Blake got married. Traditional Arkadian wedding, matching tattoos, the whole nine yards.” He shook his head. “So who’s the lucky lady?”

“Clarke,” Bellamy said simply. Murphy’s eyebrows shot up.

“What?! You and the princess got married?” he cried. “Holy shit.” He gave a small laugh. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You two have been in love since the week we landed on this rock.”

“How do you know?” Bellamy asked him.

“Uh, Bellamy. EVERYONE knew,” Murphy smirked. “You two were made for each other. Destiny and all that shit.” He threw back a third drink. “Seriously. Congratulations, man.” He tipped his empty glass. “I’m happy for you. And the tattoo is great.” He paused. “Did I tell you how awesome Emori’s tattoos are?”

Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah, you did. But tell me again. I want to hear it.”

They talked until the bottle was empty and both of them staggered as they rose from the table and approached the bed.

“Well,” Murphy began. “I guess...I’ll take the floor.”

Bellamy waved him off. “There’s room,” he flopped onto the bed. “Just keep your hands to yourself. I’m spoken for.” They both laughed and fell asleep side by side.


	4. Fight or Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy learns more about Murphy's life in captivity and vows to get him out. His own demons continue to haunt him. The two men have to learn to trust each other if they have hope of escape. What they don't know is that Clarke and Emori are heading to Polis with a plan of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W there are descriptions of non-consent, both implied and actual.

**********************************************************************************

Bellamy woke up to two large forms hovering over him where he had fallen asleep next to Murphy, who was snoring softly. Still groggy from the alcohol, it took him a few minutes to register there were voices speaking to him.

“We’re gonna need to borrow your friend for a few minutes,” Rivo said. Bellamy lifted his head as Bayliss stepped over to Murphy and held a lantern close to him so the flames flickered across his face. He slapped him hard.

“Wake up, dumbass,” he said. Murphy was immediately alert, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry guys. I’m up.” He stood up and to Bellamy’s alarm, began to undress.

“What the hell?” Bellamy yelled. “What’s going on?”

Murphy shrugged and continued to take his clothes off. “It’s okay, Bellamy. It’s a...regular thing.”

Rivo grabbed Murphy by the arm and started leading him out of the room. Bellamy blocked his path. “Don’t you fucking touch him,” he growled.

Bayliss came and stood beside Rivo and gave Bellamy a hard look.

“I’ll admit he’s not my first choice,” he said. “But I don’t have Heda’s permission to use you yet.” He stepped closer so he and Bellamy were inches apart.

Bellamy stood his ground. “You’re not taking him,” he said.

“Bellamy, I’ll be fine.” Murphy said nervously.

“Shut up,” Bayliss said to Murphy. He turned back to Bellamy.

“Go to the wall and put your collar on,” he said quietly. “Then sit there and don’t make a sound until I come back. If you don’t, your friend is gonna come back looking a lot worse than he does right now. Understand?”

Murphy looked at Bellamy with fear in his eyes. “Please, Bellamy. Just do it.”

Setting his jaw, Bellamy walked over, bent down and picked up the iron collar with his good hand. It was a struggle to wrap it around his neck, as his left arm was still wrapped tightly to his body. Bayliss offered no assistance as he fumbled. He finally clicked the latch around his neck and Bayliss smiled. “That’s better,” he said and turned away. “Let’s go.”

The two men led Murphy out of the room as Bellamy sank down against the wall. He stayed seated on the floor, listening to the muffled sounds of Murphy’s assault in the next room. His mind was flooded with vivid recollections of the ways in which Cage systematically broke him down during his time at Mount Weather.

_{“I’m going to do things to you, Bellamy, until there is no YOU left. Understand?_ ” Cage had said after he had assaulted him the first time.

_Bellamy thought he’d understood but he had been wrong. He hadn’t yet understood the depths of Cage’s depravity. He was naïve enough then to think that Cage only meant to physically harm him. He was bold enough then to suggest that Cage go to hell. He was hopeful enough then to think the end of his abuse was in the near future. None of those had turned out to be the case. Months later, he had been subjected to more experiments, more physical and psychological trauma then he could remember. His mind had become a blur of hours spent in Tsing’s laboratory or Cage’s bedroom._

_“Until you arrived, Lincoln was my proudest achievement,” Cage had said. “He was a good man. We tested his ability to empathize, to collaborate, to hope. His scores were extraordinary in all those categories. And I was able to turn him into a cannibal. But you are the ultimate subject. An empath of the highest level. You willingly came back to me, knowing what I would do to you, just to protect your friends.”}_

Cage’s prediction had come true. Bellamy had begun to feel more and more of himself disappearing, being absorbed into Cage’s all-consuming diabolical cruelty. He had been hanging on by a thread when he had been sold to Lexa and discovered that Clarke was still very much alive. The fire in him had been re-ignited.

His thoughts turned to Clarke. He could picture her perfectly in their small home, sitting on the edge of the bed, her blond hair shielding her face as she held Madi and sung to her softly. He imagined her looking up at him, her blue eyes holding nothing but safety and comfort for him. He thought of how easily she could soothe his pain with just a smile and a touch. Then he thought of Madi and his heart nearly broke from the need to see her again.

He fought back a surge of panic and rage at the reality that he was once again imprisoned. There was no way in hell he was letting this happen again. Not to himself and not to Murphy.

It was an hour before they returned, dragging Murphy between them and tossing him onto the bed. By then, Bellamy’s rage had reached a boiling point. Bayliss reached down and unlocked his collar. As he turned to leave, Bellamy called to him.

“Yu na wan op by ai hand.” { _You will die by my hand_ }

Bayliss stopped and walked slowly back in front of Bellamy. He leaned down, brought his hand up and cupped his chin, staring into his eyes. Then he kissed Bellamy lightly on the cheek.

“Branwada strik whore,” he replied. { _Foolish little whore_ }

He strode out, locking the door behind him.

Bellamy remained silent as Murphy stood and pulled his clothes on, then collapsed back onto the bed.

“My first day here, Ontari forced herself on me,” Murphy finally said. “I told her there was someone else.” His voice was trembling. “And then these two guys...I tried to fight back. But I learned how pointless that was.” He didn’t look up when Bellamy came and sat down beside him. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He looked like a child.

“I’m just trying to stay alive, okay?” he whispered.

“Murphy, you realize this isn’t really living, right?” Bellamy asked quietly.

“Yeah, well it sure as hell isn’t dying,” Murphy responded, his head lowered.

Bellamy reached out and put his hand on Murphy’s shoulder.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he said.

Murphy looked up at him, his eyes red with impending tears. “You?” he scoffed. “I’m here because of you!” he shouted. “When I was hanging from that tree, I thought the last thing I would ever see in this life was your face, looking up at me, waiting for me to die. And I couldn’t talk, but I wanted to say that everything I did was what I thought you wanted me to do. What you MADE me do! And then you turned everyone against me.” Murphy was crying in earnest now. “I had nowhere to go!”

Bellamy tried to pull him close but he struck out at him. “I don’t want your fucking pity, Bellamy!” He was practically hysterical.

“I shouldn’t have let them hang you, Murphy,” Bellamy said. “And we shouldn’t have banished you. It was wrong. Just let me help you, alright?”

Murphy had his head resting on his knees. He didn’t speak so Bellamy continued.

“I’m not leaving here without you.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere. There’s nothing for me out there. I mean, it sucks here, but at least I know what to expect,” Murphy said.

“What about Emori?” Bellamy asked. “Don’t you want to see her again?”

“Man, she’s long gone. She’s way too smart to stick around and besides, she could do a lot better.” He wiped his face on his shirt sleeve.

“John,” Bellamy said. “Look at me.” Murphy felt a pang in his chest when he heard Bellamy use his first name. He looked up.

“You deserve to be free of this place, of this life,” Bellamy said. “We both do. I have a home to go back to. And so do you.”

Murphy snorted. “What home? Arkadia? You really think I’ll be welcomed back with open arms?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” Bellamy replied. “But I know that I’m willing to give you a second chance. And I know I won’t be the only one who feels that way.” He paused. “So, can you trust me? Please?”

Murphy looked away. “I worshipped you. Did you know that?” Bellamy opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. “And I trusted you,” Murphy continued. “But I won’t make that mistake again. It cost me too much the first time.”

Bellamy stood and paced back and forth for a minute and stopped at the window. The sun was just beginning to rise and his eyes travelled down and took in the city that he couldn’t escape to. He then gazed to the horizon in the direction he knew Arkadia lay, and within it, a family he couldn’t embrace. His decision made, he turned back to Murphy.

“I’m getting you out of here. I swear to you. Whatever it takes.”

Murphy looked at Bellamy’s expression and knew he meant it.

Bellamy lay back down on the bed. “Let’s get some more sleep. We’ll make a plan later.”

******************************************************************************

Clarke and Emori led the way along the road to Polis. Once the group had agreed to Emori’s plea for help, she had fallen mostly silent along the walk, nervously looking from side to side.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” Clarke told her. “We’re not at war. At least, not last time I checked.” She paused. “What can you tell me about what’s happening in Polis? What are we walking into?"

Emori licked her lips and frowned. “Politics isn’t my area,” she shrugged. “Me and John, we live in the shadows. We don’t...engage with the people there.”

“Except to rob them?” Clarke asked gently. She motioned to a knife Emori had fastened to her waist. “That knife belongs to a member of Indra’s group. I recognize the symbol carved on the handle.”

“Look, you can judge me,” Emori said. “But you have everything you need. Shelter, security, you don’t worry where your next meal will come from. I have to fend for myself. I always have.”

Clarke nodded. “I wasn’t judging. Believe me, I know what you have to do to get by sometimes.”

Emori relaxed a little. She liked Clarke in spite of herself. “What I can tell you is that the new Commander has everyone on edge. From what I hear, no one knows how to predict her next move. She’s more bloodthirsty than any they remember except someone they call Sheidheda.” She sighed. “And John is her prisoner.”

Clarke put her hand on Emori’s shoulder. “And so is Bellamy. And we’re getting them out.” Emori nodded.

“Do you have a plan?” She asked.

“I do,” Clarke said. “I’m walking in that gate and demanding my husband back.”

Emori laughed. “Just like that?”

“Yep, just like that. I’ve been told about an old tradition, when people were taken as concubines to the leaders, one of the only recourses they had was to prove they already belonged to someone else. As in a marriage. Turns out, a lot of people were married just to protect themselves from having to serve in that capacity.”

Emori was nodding. “I do remember that law. Unfortunately, John and I aren’t married.”

Clarke looked at her and smiled. “I have a plan for that, too.”

******************************************************************************

_{Conscious awareness is seeping back into his brain, but he isn’t ready to open his eyes and accept the glaring overhead light just yet. Instead, he focuses on the voices in the room. Breathing is excruciating, a low rasping moan escapes his mouth with each exhalation._

_“What’s the diagnosis?” he hears Cage ask._

_“Broken ribs, concussion, acute dehydration, some torn ligaments, and a fairly deep stab wound in his right thigh,” Tsing responds. “If you want him to stay alive, I’m not sure sending him to the Grounders again is a good idea.”_

_Cage ignores this. “And his treatments?”_

_“I’ve given him his third series of injections,” Tsing says. “His body is absolutely miraculous. His injuries are severe, but his healing is accelerating beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”_

_“How soon will he be ready for use?” Cage sounds impatient._

_Tsing blows out a sigh. “Four days probably. Three if you plan to take it easy with him.”_

_“I don’t,” Cage says._

_He feels a hand on his shoulder, turns his head and opens his eyes slowly. His mouth is too dry to speak so he just stares._

_“Can you hear me, Bellamy? Good news. You’ll be all better soon.” Cage pats him lightly and walks out.}_

“Bellamy?” Murphy asked louder. “Can you hear me?”

Bellamy opened his eyes to see Murphy looking at his shoulder.

“How did your shoulder heal so fast?” Murphy asked incredulously. “I mean, it was completely fucked up yesterday.”

He sat up and unwrapped it slowly. The swelling had disappeared and the only sign of the injury that was left was a faint shade of purple. “Another of Tsing’s experiments,” he finally said. “Injections. They burned like hell. But after a few weeks, it started working. I could heal from injuries in days, even hours.”

Murphy gave a low whistle.

“Well, I guess there was one good thing to come out of that. You’re like a god now,” he laughed.

Bellamy gave him a hard look. “It wasn’t worth it.”

“Sorry,” Murphy said. He got up and stood at the window looking out.

“Well, at least you got to Cage though, right?” he asked. He turned to see Bellamy sitting with his head in his hands, looking at the floor.

“I killed him. Only he isn’t really dead.”

“What do you mean?” Murphy asked.

“I learned how to just get in my own head whenever he was abusing me. I had some tricks I could use to just...shut out what was happening. But now? He’s more alive than ever, because now he lives INSIDE my goddamn head!!” Bellamy was holding his head, rocking back and forth. “I see him, I hear him. I fucking FEEL him!” he yelled.

Murphy walked over and stood next to Bellamy. “Hey, man. Calm down, okay?”

Bellamy took a deep breath, stood up and pulled his shirt on. “When do you think we’re going to hear from Ontari again?”

Murphy shrugged. “She spends the mornings consulting with her key people. She comes here almost every afternoon.”

“Okay, let’s talk about how we’re getting out of here.” Bellamy said.


	5. The Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emori, Clarke, and company arrive in Polis. Clarke discovers that Emori hasn't been entirely truthful. Bellamy works out a plan...but still has trust issues with Murphy. Murphy's feelings for Bellamy are starting to get entirely too complicated.

***************************************************************************

“I know a place we can stop for the night,” Emori offered. They had been passing more people as they approached Polis, and not wanting to draw attention to themselves, they had covered their faces with masks. Once the sun had set, the cold began setting in.

Clarke nodded. It made sense to wait until morning to initiate her plan. “I’ll follow you,” she gestured for Emori to walk ahead. In just a few minutes, they were standing at the door of a small, dilapidated hut.

“Nice place,” Miller scoffed.

Emori shot him a glare. “If you can find better, be my guest.”

“Who lives here?” Harper asked.

Emori was glancing around nervously. Tybe’s body was gone from where she had left him dead.

“Uh, just a friend,” she replied. The rotted wooden door had long since lost its lock, so she just pushed it open and walked in.

“So your friend? He doesn’t mind you just walking in?” Clarke asked, following close behind and glancing around the tiny, two room interior.

Emori knelt down in front of the fireplace and began piling on some wood and struck a match. She rubbed her hands together and tried to breathe some warmth onto them. “He comes and goes a lot. Probably just...out,” she offered.

Clarke had continued to walk slowly around the space, her eyes taking in every detail. Miller walked up behind her.

“Can we talk outside for a minute?” he asked.

She nodded and followed him out.

“Are you getting any weird vibes from this girl?” Miller asked pointedly as soon as they were out of earshot.

“Well,” Clarke began, “I know she’s a thief. I know if she’s hanging around Murphy, she’s got questionable morals. But she was coming to us to get help, so I think she’s being honest about knowing where we can find Bellamy. And besides, I don’t have anything else to go on. Her story makes sense. What do you think?”

“I think John Murphy has betrayed us every single chance he’s gotten,” said Miller. “If this girl is friends with him, I think there’s a good chance she’s betraying us, too.” He paused. “She knows more than she’s telling.”

“Agreed,” Clarke replied. “So we don’t let her out of our sight, okay?” Miller nodded in agreement. At that moment, they heard shouting from inside the house and hustled back in.

“What’s going on?” Clarke cried. Monty and Harper each had one of Emori’s arms and were forcing her to sit down in a chair. She was struggling.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” she yelled.

“Harper, what is it?” Clarke asked.

Monty walked to a corner of the room and picked up a rifle, showing it to Miller and Clarke.

“Look familiar?” he asked. Miller and Clarke exchanged glances and an expression of anger crossed Clarke’s face.

“It’s Bellamy’s,” she said quietly. She walked over to where Emori was sitting. “Whose house is this?” she demanded. “And don’t say ‘a friend.’ I want to know what my husband’s rifle is doing here and what you aren’t telling us.”

Emori stared at the ground.

“Hey!” Miller yelled, startling everyone in the room. “Start talking!”

“I didn’t lie, okay?” Emori said. “Ontari is keeping John and Bellamy both prisoner.”

Clarke stooped down to be face to face with Emori.

“What did you leave out in your story?” she asked. “I know you haven’t told me everything.”

Emori finally looked at her. “I wanted to get John out. I knew I couldn’t do it by myself. So I followed the two guards I saw take him into the tower and I overheard them say that she really wanted...” she paused.

“Really wanted what?” Clarke encouraged.

“She wanted Lexa’s whore,” Emori said. “I knew Bellamy had been at Mount Weather and I knew from the way these guys were talking that he was probably who they were talking about. So I approached one of the them and offered them a deal.”

Clarke stood up and set her jaw, trying to control her anger. “What was the deal?”

Emori stayed silent.

“You tell me now, or I save Bellamy and John Murphy can rot in that damn tower for all I care!” Clarke yelled. “Do you understand? I will tie you to that chair and leave you here, and he can wonder for the rest of his life why you never came for him.”

“It’s not John’s fault, okay?” Emori started to cry. “He didn’t know I did any of this. I wasn’t even sure Bellamy was the guy they wanted, I just took a chance. I wanted to get him out of there and I really didn’t care what happened to Bellamy if he was traded for John. And from what John has told me about the way all of you treated him, I still don’t regret doing it. All of you deserve it!” she spat. “The guy that grabbed Bellamy? This is his house. And he won’t be coming back because I killed him. He went back on the deal, didn’t get John out. So this was all for nothing.”

Clarke was standing in front of the fire, holding Bellamy’s rifle in her hands. She could almost feel him in the room. He’d always had that effect on her, getting her back in touch with her heart. The thought of him locked away in yet another prison was making her blood boil. The young woman sitting behind her was quickly becoming the target of her wrath. But she thought again of Bellamy, and what he would say. He could always understand people’s motivations for the things they did.

_“We all do bad things, sometimes to each other,” he told her once. “But we aren’t bad people.”_

“Emori,” Clarke’s voice had softened. “I’m going tomorrow and I’m going to do whatever it takes to get Bellamy AND John out of there. You’re right, we mistreated him and this is partially our fault.”

“Bullshit!” Miller began, but Clarke held up her hand to silence him.

“But you’re staying here,” Clarke said.

“What? No! I’m going with you,” Emori cried.

Clarke was already shaking her head. “Monty and Harper are staying here with you. I don’t trust you and I don’t need you making things more complicated.” She paused. “But if you don’t tell me everything you know right now, and I walk into something unexpected, I promise you I will sacrifice John for Bellamy. Understand?”

Emori nodded and started explaining all she knew.

**************************************************************************

By midday, Bayliss and Rivo hadn’t returned.

“I thought you said Ontari comes here every day,” Bellamy said.

“Yeah, well she did. Up until today,” Murphy replied. The door opened and two men entered with plates of food.

They dropped the food on the table and were turning to walk out.

“Where’s the Commander?” Murphy asked.

“She’s been called away,” one guard answered, not offering any other information as he shut the door.

Bellamy was pacing restlessly when Murphy turned back to the table.

“Come on. We might as well eat. You gotta be hungry, right?” Murphy asked.

Bellamy sighed. “What would a change in her routine mean?” he asked.

Murphy shrugged. He was already sitting at the table, shoving food in his mouth. “It means I don’t have to fuck her today. And it means you don’t either. So relax.”

He sat and frowned at Murphy. “I heard she doesn’t have the flame,” he said. Murphy glanced up at him and stopped chewing.

“From who?” Murphy finally said.

“Not important. Just a rumor. Maybe, maybe not.” Bellamy replied. “So maybe her absence today has something to do with that. Do you know anything about her plan to try to get the flame back? Does she know where it is?” He was fishing, but it occurred to him Ontari could be headed to Arkadia, which filled him with dread.

Murphy shrugged again. “I’m not her confidant. She comes here to fuck me, not get political advice.” He appeared to be working something out inside his head before he spoke again.

“But, yeah. The rumor is true,” he finally said. “She doesn’t have the flame. She’s been getting more pissed off every day that she can’t find it.”

Bellamy nodded. “She knows she can’t prove her right to be Commander unless she has it.” He was nervously drumming the table with his fingers. “There’s too many variables...”

“Variables for what?” Murphy asked.

“For my plan to get us out.” He stood up and started pacing, running his hands through his hair. “If Bayliss and Rivo went with her, then I need to rethink.”

Murphy stood and joined Bellamy at the window. “Well, what is your plan anyway? Care to enlighten me? I hope it doesn’t include me trying to fight my way out of here. I’m 150 pounds wet.”

Bellamy looked over at him. “Did you ever hear the term ‘level the playing field’?”

“Pike used to say that a lot,” Murphy replied. “Not that I have any idea what he was talking about. I never really paid attention to much of what he said.”

“Well, you should have,” Bellamy said. “Survival is always more likely if you play smart. You don’t have to the be the biggest player on the field, just the smartest. Know your skills. Know your enemy. And use both to your advantage.”

“How do I do that?” Murphy asked.

“When Ontari’s guards come back, just keep your eyes open. Pay attention to what you see,” Bellamy said. “Practice humility.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that you don’t always have to throw a punch to win a fight. If you learn something about your opponent, you’re one step closer to leveling the field.”

*************************************************************************

_He and Harper were led to the door of Cage’s quarters. They exchanged nervous glances as the door opened. Cage gestured to Emerson to lead Bellamy in and leave Harper in the corridor with the other guard._

_“You can take the cuffs off,” he instructed Emerson. When his hands were free, Cage gestured to a spot in the center of the room. “Stand right there.” Bellamy took a few steps and turned around to face the two men._

_“Emerson is going to punch you,” Cage said. “And you will let him.” Bellamy was clenching his fists but Cage shook his head. “You will not hit him back. Understood?”_

_“Why would I just stand here and let him hit me?” Bellamy asked._

_Cage smiled. “Because you know one of your Delinquents is out in the corridor, waiting to take the beating if you refuse.”_

_Bellamy shifted his gaze to Emerson, who was already advancing on him. He put his hands to his sides and thrust his chin at Emerson in defiance. Emerson wasted no time in landing a powerful blow to the left side of his face. Bellamy’s head snapped to the side, but he quickly recovered, glaring at Emerson._

_“You hit like someone who got their ass kicked every day when they were a kid,” Bellamy scoffed. The second punch was square in the middle of his face, splitting his lip and making his nose bleed. His body tensed, but Cage barked at him again._

_“No retaliation! Hands down!”_

_“Again?” Emerson asked, clearly enjoying the task. Cage nodded as Bellamy set his feet wider apart to brace himself for the next blow, which Emerson aimed at his right cheekbone. This time, Bellamy stared at the ground, hands slack at his sides, which seemed to please Cage._

_“Good,” he said. “You’re accepting what happens next, not presuming you have any control.” He turned to Emerson. “You can go now. Thank you.”_   
  
_“My pleasure,” Emerson snorted. As the door shut behind him, Cage turned back to Bellamy who was still standing in the same spot, wiping the blood from his face with his shirt sleeve._

_“Stop,” Cage instructed as he approached. He reached out and smeared his thumb through the blood on Bellamy’s face. “I like it like this.” A shadow of lust passed over his eyes, making Bellamy’s skin crawl._

_“Today’s lesson is about humility,” he said. “Ego, pride...I won’t allow you to have those things anymore. They’re obstacles to your acceptance of what you really are.”_

_“What am I?” Bellamy’s voice was trembling. Blood dripped off his chin and onto the floor but he didn’t attempt to wipe it away this time._

_Cage grasped Bellamy’s face in both his hands, then moved them onto his shoulders and pushed down. He smiled as Bellamy lowered himself to his knees._

_“You’re nothing,” he whispered as he began unbuckling his belt._

******************************************************************************

They hadn’t had to wait as long as they’d expected. Bayliss and Rivo arrived later that afternoon.

“Heda is occupied this evening. She requested we oversee your training,” Bayliss explained. He gestured to Rivo who grabbed Murphy by the arm and led him to the wall where he fastened his collar.

“Sit down,” Rivo said. Murphy complied.

Bayliss stood in front of Bellamy, with Rivo slightly behind him.

“Undress,” he instructed.

“Go float yourself,” Bellamy replied. Bayliss leveled a punch at Bellamy’s gut. When he doubled over, Bayliss brought his knee up hard into Bellamy’s face, knocking him backwards. He scrambled back to his feet, but to Murphy’s surprise, didn’t throw a punch back.

“We’re taking you to get cleaned up,” Bayliss said flatly. “So you either undress and I allow you three minutes of privacy to bathe yourself. Or, you keep defying me and I’ll make that little whore wash you while the two of us watch,” he jerked his head towards Murphy. “What’s it gonna be?”

Bellamy glared at him and pulled his shirt over his head. He walked closer to Bayliss, looked down at his crotch, and smirked.

“Is this the only way you can get a hard on?” He asked. “By abusing people that can’t defend themselves?” He looked over to Rivo. “Does he make you help him out with this once you leave here?” He gestured to Bayliss’s cock.

Rivo advanced on him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he shouted.

Bellamy shrugged. “I’m just trying to identify the real whore in the room. I mean, we’re prisoners, we don’t have a choice.” He grinned. “But he doesn’t even have to force you, does he? I bet you come crawling up to him with your mouth open like a hungry little...”

Rivo leaped at Bellamy, knocking him to the ground. He managed to land several punches before Bayliss pulled him away. Bellamy lay still on the ground. He glanced at Murphy who was still watching the entire scene. The two guards each grabbed one of Bellamy’s arms, yanked him to his feet and dragged him out of the room.

Twenty minutes passed before Bellamy returned. His hair was damp and he was in new clothes, but he seemed to be walking with some difficulty. Rivo gave him a hard shove into the middle of the room.

“On your knees,” Bayliss commanded. Murphy’s eyes were flicking back and forth between the two guards as Bellamy lowered himself to the ground.

“This is your place,” Bayliss continued, pointing at the floor in front of him. “You are nothing. You don’t defy any order given to you. When you are told to kneel, you don’t think, you don’t argue. You drop to your fucking knees. Got it?” He was circling Bellamy as he said this. When he was behind him, he grabbed a handful of his hair and wrenched his head back. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes. I got it.” Bellamy hissed.

“Good. Hopefully you learned something.” He unlocked Murphy’s collar and he and Rivo walked out.

Murphy stayed seated, watching Bellamy rise and dust his knees off.

“What about you?” Bellamy asked. “Did you learn something?”

“Well, I learned you can take a hell of a beating,” Murphy said.

“Is that all?”

“No. Rivo is scared of Bayliss. He looks to him before he does anything. So he doesn’t make any decisions on his own.”

“Good,” said Bellamy. “What else?”

“He gets angry a lot faster than Bayliss.”

Bellamy was nodding. “He’s emotional. He loses control.” He rubbed his jaw. “Bayliss isn’t as reactive, but he hits a lot harder.”

“What the hell were you doing, baiting them like that?” Murphy asked. “I thought you wanted to get out of here? It looked more like you have a death wish to me.”

“I wanted you to learn more about your opponents,” Bellamy replied. “And you did. So we just took a step to leveling the field.”

“Well if you think I’m going to provoke them like that, you’re crazy,” Murphy said. “You’ll be healed up by tomorrow. I don’t have that superhuman gift, remember?”

“If my plan works, you won’t have to throw a punch at all,” Bellamy replied. “But you need to know who you’re dealing with.”

“Okay,” Murphy shrugged. “How about we drink some of that piss whisky and call it a night?”

*****************************************************************************

The moonlight had made its way through the window and cast a soft blue light across Bellamy’s face. His lips were slightly parted in sleep and if Murphy was quiet, he could hear Bellamy’s slow breath passing through them. A dark curl had fallen across his eyes and Murphy reached over and gently brushed it away with his index finger, marveling at the dark lashes and tiny freckles that were revealed. Gingerly, he traced Bellamy’s jawline with the back of his finger, ending at his lower lip. His eyes traveled past Bellamy’s mouth, to his arm casually flung across his chest, to the dark line of hair below his navel. He threw himself back against his own pillow, trying to ignore his building arousal.

“Dammit,” he sighed quietly. His cock was fully hard, and sleep wasn’t going to come anytime soon. He moved his hand slowly down to his crotch, stroking himself slowly while keeping as still as he possibly could. Carefully, he inched closer to Bellamy so he could feel the warmth of his body. Through half-closed eyes, he watched the gentle rise and fall of Bellamy’s chest. He didn’t know if the aching desire he felt for this man was love. He knew it was nothing like what he felt for Emori, a woman who felt so much like home and belonging that he couldn’t imagine a life without her. But Bellamy made him crazy with need. This felt more like being on fire. Like danger and intoxication and salvation all rolled into one.

He increased his pace, his breath shallow and his blood pounding in his ears. When he shifted his gaze to Bellamy again, he was horrified to find that Bellamy’s eyes were open. He was watching him with that damned inscrutable expression.

“God damn it, Bellamy,” he huffed, flinging his hand over his eyes. Shame burned his face and he could feel tears building, one escaping and sliding down his cheek. “I wasn’t...I didn’t mean to...” He just shut up. There was no point in saying anything. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes, so he was startled when he felt Bellamy’s hand gently close around his wrist and move it back to his cock.

“It’s okay, John,” Bellamy whispered. He shifted to his side and reached over to turn Murphy’s head to face him. His eyes didn’t betray any particular emotion, but kindness was the closest thing that came to Murphy’s mind. Bellamy propped himself up on one elbow, leaned in, and brought his lips to Murphy’s. He sucked gently on Murphy’s lower lip, causing a groan to escape his throat. He tried to turn his head away, but Bellamy pulled him closer, kissed him deeper. When he could tell Murphy wasn’t going to break the kiss, Bellamy ran his hand downward, closing it over Murphy’s own, urging him on. His orgasm came quickly, as he bucked his hips into their joined hands, a sob releasing itself from his chest. Bellamy pulled away, kissed his temple and lay back down.

When his breathing was back under control, Murphy looked over at Bellamy, who was staring at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I’m worthless.”

Bellamy frowned. “You’re not worthless, Murphy. It’s okay. I get it. I just...”

“Don’t say anything else,” Murphy said. “I know.”

They lay side by side in silence. “I love Emori,” Murphy finally said.

“I know you do,” Bellamy replied.

“You drive me crazy,” Murphy said. “I wish you didn’t. I hate you for it.”

Bellamy looked over at him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Murphy sighed. “Well, thanks for not being a dick about it,” he said.

Bellamy smiled and nudged him with his elbow. “I know you can’t help it. Like Ontari said, I’ve got the body of a god.”

“Yeah,” Murphy drawled. “And the face of an angel.”

Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah, that too.”

Murphy laughed. “Fuck you, Blake.”

“Murphy?” Bellamy’s voice grew serious. “I need to know you won’t betray me. For my plan to work, we have to trust each other. Can I trust you?”

Murphy turned to look at him. “We want the same thing, right? I’ll do my part.”


	6. When Push Comes to Shove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy has to wonder who really has his back.

**********************************************************************************************************************************

Ontari turned as Bellamy and Murphy entered the room in front of Rivo. Their hands were bound behind them and Murphy’s left ankle was chained to Bellamy’s right, so they moved somewhat awkwardly. They both had bloody faces.

“What happened to them?” she asked.

“Lover’s quarrel, apparently,” Rivo smirked.

“Where’s Bayliss?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Heda. I didn’t want to keep you waiting,” he replied as he stooped down to separate the ankle restraints. She approached them, reached behind Murphy, and began untying his wrists.

“Did you miss me?” she asked, giving him a seductive smile. Murphy leaned his face in close to hers.

“What do you think?” he replied as she ran her hand to the back of his neck and kissed him deeply. Bellamy cleared his throat and gestured to his own hands with his chin when they looked his way.

“Oh, no. You’ll stay bound,” Ontari said. She brought a chair over and gestured to Bellamy to sit. Rivo shoved him into the chair and fastened the free restraint onto Bellamy’s other ankle. “Have you two been enjoying each other’s company? I’m sure you had a lot to catch up on,” she said. Murphy was standing next to her as they both regarded Bellamy glaring up at them.

Murphy chuckled. “We have, actually. I got him drunk the first night.” Ontari noticed Bellamy give a small, urgent shake of his head but Murphy ignored it. “He really loosened up.”

“Oh?” she was clearly interested.

“Murphy,” Bellamy said in a warning tone.

“He told me that his last owner is the one who trained him to get off on his own pain,” he said. “His name was Cage Wallace. You could send him a big thank you, if Bellamy hadn’t killed him.” Bellamy lunged for Murphy but Rivo was behind him in an instant, wrapping him in a strangle hold. He struggled for a minute, then stilled.

“You fucking cock sucker,” he growled. Ontari raised her eyebrow.

“What else?”

“He also has this weird ability to heal from injuries really fast. Another gift to you from Wallace. Seems the guy used him for a lot more than sex.” He leveled his gaze at Bellamy. “What was that you called yourself? A lab rat? Anyway, you could literally beat him black and blue today and he’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“Is that true?” Ontari turned her attention to Bellamy who was glaring at Murphy. “Look at me!” Ontari yelled. He turned to her. “Is that true?” she asked again. He nodded.

“Look at his shoulder,” Murphy continued. “It was a mess just two days ago.” He looked at Rivo. “May I?” Rivo tightened his arm around Bellamy’s neck and nodded. Murphy stepped forward and slowly unbuttoned Bellamy’s shirt, pulling it down over his shoulder. “See what I mean?” he said.

Ontari was clearly impressed. “Amazing,” she whispered, leaning in to get a closer look. “I want to see his back.”

Rivo hauled Bellamy from the chair and threw him to the ground where he landed face first. Murphy grabbed the collar of Bellamy’s unbuttoned shirt and yanked it down so his back was exposed.

“You’re going to regret this, Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled into the floor.

“No more than I regret anything else I’ve ever done,” Murphy responded.

Ontari ran her hands across the places where she had drawn blood on Bellamy’s back.

“It’s remarkable,” she said. “The marks are nearly gone. Get him back in the chair.” Rivo and Murphy hauled him back to a sitting position. This time Murphy shifted into position behind him, placing his hands on Bellamy’s shoulders.

“You wanna know his biggest secret?” he asked. “You’re gonna love this.”

“Shut up,” Bellamy said in a low voice, but Murphy ran his hands up to Bellamy’s throat and squeezed. He leaned down until his chin was nearly resting on Bellamy’s shoulder.

“Seems Lexa’s former whore now has himself a wife,” Murphy chuckled.

“Murphy! Shut your fucking mouth!” Bellamy yelled, beginning to struggle again.

“A sweet little girl next door, from Arkadia,” Murphy continued. “Apparently it was a... traditional wedding. He’s got a tattoo on his wrist. An Arkadian symbol of marriage.”

Bellamy was staring at the ground. “I’m going to kill you, you god damn cockroach.”

Murphy laughed. “No, sorry. For once in my fucking life, I have the upper hand.” He moved in front of Bellamy and knelt down in front of him. He placed his hand under Bellamy’s chin and lifted his face to look him in the eyes. “And it feels really, really good. I’m going to enjoy watching Ontari hurt you. And when she’s done, I’ll watch Bayliss and Rivo hurt you. And when they’re done, I’ll hurt you myself.” He rose, considered Bellamy for a minute and then backhanded him across the face.

Ontari had remained silent through this exchange. She came and stood close to Murphy and gestured for Rivo to wait outside.

“His wife. Do you know who she is?” she asked.

“I do,” Murphy replied.

“I can’t make a claim to him if there’s someone else who can contest it,” Ontari said. “According to our tradition, he can’t be both a husband and a whore.” She smiled.

Murphy nodded. “But if he’s a widow, that changes everything doesn’t it?” A look of horror crossed Bellamy’s face.

“No! Murphy, please! You can’t do this! Even you wouldn’t stoop to this.”

“Take Rivo with you,” Ontari said. “I can’t have anyone else finding out about this, so do it quickly and get back here.”

Murphy locked eyes with Bellamy. “Yes, Heda.”

Bellamy was shaking his head, tears had formed in his eyes. “I trusted you,” he said, his voice breaking.

“Yeah, well, that was your mistake,” Murphy said, turning towards Ontari. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’ll need proof,” Ontari said. “That he’s free to be claimed.”

“You’ll have it,” he replied. He put his hand up and stroked Bellamy’s face, who tried to jerk his head away.

Murphy smiled at him. “Well, at least you know the kind of foreplay he likes,” he said, continuing to stroke Bellamy’s cheek. “You want me to warm him up for you before I go?”

She laughed. “I think I’ll take it from here. You need to get to Arkadia.” Murphy looked over to see that she was holding a short leather crop. Bellamy saw it at the same instant and looked at Murphy, his eyes full of hate.

“Murphy, you son of a bitch,” he said.

Murphy smiled and turned towards the door.

“You kids have fun!” he called as he walked away.

The door shut behind him and he and Rivo could hear Bellamy screaming his name.

“Murphy! Murphy!” the desperate calls faded as they continued down the corridor.

**********************************************************************

**_Two hours earlier..._ **

They stood shoulder to shoulder looking out the window.

“This plan sucks,” Murphy finally said.

Bellamy gave a small chuckle. “Why do you say that?”

Murphy turned towards him. “Because she’ll rape you, Bellamy. Even if I run full speed as soon as I get out, it’ll take days for me to get to Arkadia and back with any help.” He stared at the side of Bellamy’s head and waited for a response.

“Bellamy!” he yelled, forcing the other man to look at him. “Are you gonna tell me you don’t think that’s what will happen?”

Bellamy studied him for a long minute. “I’m telling you I think it’s the only option we have. Clarke doesn’t know where I am. No one knows where I am. And it’ll be a lot easier to get Ontari to trust you and let you walk out of here than for us to try and make a break for it.” He turned back to the window. “I’ll be okay.”

The fact that no one in John Murphy’s life had ever once made a sacrifice for him until this moment wasn’t lost on him. He also recognized in that instant that Bellamy’s empathy was his biggest weakness. His actions the night before proved that he could intuit what people needed from him and he responded to that need without considering himself. He knew Bellamy would have indulged him further, would have allowed him to feast on his own desire, but he also knew it would only leave him hungry for more. Bellamy would never say no, even to him, and he felt an ache in his chest at this realization.

He shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do this...”

“You didn’t,” Bellamy interrupted. “But you were right.”

“About what?”

“You’re here because of me. This is the way I make that right. Okay?” Murphy didn’t say anything. “Okay?” Bellamy repeated.

“Yeah, okay,” Murphy said quietly. “But how do you know I won’t just take off and leave you here?”

Bellamy smiled. “I don’t.” He stepped to the fireplace and reached into the hidden niche to pull a handful of the small stones out. He placed them in a square of cloth and started tying the corners together.

“You’ll see Clarke again,” Murphy said. Bellamy gave a small nod. “I won’t let you down. I mean it.”

“You’re really going to have to sell this, Murphy,” Bellamy said as he worked. “Can you do that?”

“I think so,” said Murphy.

“No. Thinking isn’t good enough,” Bellamy responded. “I need to know you can carry this off. She has to believe you’re betraying me.”  
  
Murphy rolled his eyes. “All right, all right. I’ll slip into full cockroach mode. Even you will believe it.” Bellamy nodded.

“Good. That’s what I want to hear.” He handed Murphy the cloth holding the rocks. “Put these under the edge of the mattress.”

“Why?”

“We don’t have any weapons in here. I’m improvising,” Bellamy said. “Bayliss will be here any minute. We take him out and then you’re left with just Rivo to deal with when the time comes.” He saw Murphy shift uncomfortably on his feet and put his hand on his shoulder. “You got this. Okay?”

Murphy nodded.

“Alright, Bayliss needs to think we’re in the middle of a fight when he gets here. You ready? I need to punch you.”

“Admit it, you just want to punch me,” Murphy smirked. He stood up straighter and closed his eyes. “Alright, do it.”

“I’m sorry,” Bellamy said, landing a hit across his cheek and splitting his lip.

“Shit,” Murphy cried. “That fucking hurt!” He put his hand to his face. “Okay, now what?”

“Get the cuffs on and lay down on the bed,” Bellamy said. Murphy cocked an eyebrow.

“Do you want me naked?”

Bellamy huffed. “You’re impossible.”

Murphy walked to the bed and picked up the cuffs. Bellamy fastened them for him. They looked in each other’s eyes for a split second before Bellamy touched his face lightly. “Trust me.” He laid back and raised his hands over his head as Bellamy adjusted his wrists in such a way it looked as though he was tied to the bed. He sat down gently on the edge of it and they both listened intently for footsteps in the hall.

Not a minute passed before Bayliss’s heavy footfalls could be heard fast approaching the door. Bellamy leaped onto the bed and straddled Murphy just as the door flung open. He closed his hands around Murphy’s throat.

“You fucking little bitch!” he yelled in Murphy’s face.

Bayliss charged over. “What the hell is going on here?”

“I woke up to this prick with his hands all over me,” Bellamy snarled. “And I’m gonna teach him some respect.” He squeezed Murphy’s throat tighter.

“You know you want me,” Murphy sneered.

“Alright, enough,” Bayliss said. “On your knees,” he barked at Bellamy, who scrambled off of Murphy and hit the floor.

“I see you’re finally learning,” Bayliss laughed. He approached Murphy and looked down at his bloody face. “Got you pretty good, didn’t he?” He leaned forward to untie Murphy’s wrists from the bed. Bellamy was still kneeling behind him and gave him an urgent nod.

Murphy whipped his arms up and over Bayliss’s head and pulled him down on top of him, as Bellamy sprang from the floor and tackled him. Driving his shoulder into Bayliss’s chest, he sent him toppling onto Murphy who shifted the chain between his wrists to Bayliss’s throat. Bayliss was swinging his fists, catching Bellamy in the eye, but Bellamy quickly recovered and straddled his chest, pinning his arms.

“Get his legs, Murphy!” he yelled. Murphy wrapped both his legs around the larger man’s thighs and held on as tight as he could. Bellamy punched him hard in the face, leaving him momentarily stunned.

“Hurry,” Murphy rasped, now under the full weight of both Bayliss and Bellamy. Still pinning Bayliss’s arms down with his knees, Bellamy reached down and grabbed the small bag of rocks. He closed one hand over Bayliss’s nose and held it tight, waiting until he was forced to open his mouth to breathe.

“Who’s hungry?” Bellamy snarled, shoving the bag of rocks into Bayliss’s mouth and closing his other hand over it. Murphy continued to squeeze his throat and his violent thrashing continued as he suffocated. The expression on Bellamy’s face was terrifying to Murphy. He was completely devoid of emotion as he leaned close to Bayliss, both his hands still covering his nose and mouth. Bayliss’s eyes were wide with panic.

“Yu na wan op by ai hand.” Bellamy whispered as he watched the life drain from Bayliss’s eyes. When his body was finally limp, Bellamy raised himself off the bed and pulled Bayliss off Murphy who inhaled deeply.

“For fuck’s sake! I thought I was gonna suffocate before he did!” Murphy yelled. “Why couldn’t we have just broken that ceramic pitcher and stabbed him with it.”  
  
“Blood is messy,” Bellamy said.

“Blood **is** messy,” Murphy agreed.

“We need to get him under the bed before Rivo gets here,” Bellamy said. He fumbled around Bayliss’s waist until he found the key to Murphy’s cuffs and unlocked them. “Help me.”

They rolled him onto the floor and began shoving him under the bed. The body was only partly concealed when they heard Rivo approaching.

“Shit,” Murphy said giving one last shove and getting most of Bayliss’s body just under the edge. Bellamy sprang to his feet and pulled the blanket down to cover the part of the body that was still visible.

“Just remember, you got this,” Bellamy said as the door opened.

“I got this,” Murphy repeated.


	7. Breaching the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Murphy's plan goes sideways. Murphy gets help from an unexpected source. Bellamy is losing his mind.

*****************************************************************************************************************

Ontari turned to Bellamy, who had exhausted his voice from screaming at Murphy.

“Are you surprised he betrayed you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. Not really.” He regarded her warily as she stood in front of him.

“You don’t need to send them to Arkadia. I won’t tell anyone I’m married.”

“You told John, though,” Ontari sighed. “And John is, well...let’s say he’s got a loose tongue.”

“Heda, I’m not trying to escape. I’ll do what you want, just leave my wife alone. Please.”

“So you’re ready to submit to me?” Ontari asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

She kneeled down and released the ankle restraints, then stood and unlocked his wrist cuffs.

“Go to the bed.”

He stood and walked across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. He ran his hand lightly across the cover. This had been Lexa’s room once. It was the first place he had made love to Clarke, he remembered in a flash of ludicrous clarity. That was a lifetime ago. He had been powerless to stop what happened then and as much as he had thought that life was behind him, he found himself here again.

He looked up at her. “This was never what I wanted to be.”

She stroked his face. “Maybe not. But it is what you are.”

She undressed as she stood in front of him.

“Is it really so bad? Being here with me?” she asked. “A lot of men would kill for the opportunity. I can make this pleasurable for you,” she said. “Tell me the kind of pain you like.”

He stared at her. “I don’t like pain. I have a physical response to it, not an emotional one. I have no control over it.”

“Take your shirt off,” she directed. “Then lay down and put your hands over your head. I can tie you down...if you think I need to.” He shook his head slowly, removed his shirt, and eased himself back onto the bed, shutting his eyes.

*************************************************************************

It took everything Murphy had to turn away from Bellamy’s screams. He felt sick at his stomach as he made his way through the door and stumbled towards Rivo, who was eyeing him with suspicion.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“We have to go to Arkadia. Now.” Murphy said, trying to brush past him. Rivo shook his head and grabbed him by the arm.

“Uh uh. I don’t believe you. Don’t move.” He shoved him against the wall and re-entered Ontari’s room. Murphy leaned against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to panic. _Bellamy is counting on you, dumbass. Don’t fuck this up._ He took several deep breaths and Rivo was back, chuckling to himself.

“That poor bastard is in for a rough few hours,” he said. “Heda’s in a hell of a mood.” He looked Murphy up and down, noticed the expression on his face.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there’ll be enough left of him to go around. You’ll get your turn,” he motioned towards the hallway. “Come on, you were right, we’re going to Arkadia.”

He gave Murphy a shove towards the stairwell. Keeping his eyes lowered, Murphy tried to slow his heart rate, focus on what Bellamy had told him.

**_“Don’t make a move until you’re outside the tower. Rivo keeps a knife on his left hip. You wait until the right moment.”_ **

“The right moment,” he whispered to himself.

“What’s that?” Rivo asked.

“Nothing,” he responded.

They made their way down the long, spiral staircase to the exit. Murphy stopped at the door, allowing Rivo to pass him in order to unlock it. Rivo fiddled with the lock and shoved the door open with his shoulder.

“Heda doesn’t want us to be seen leaving Polis,” Murphy reminded him. “We need to go the back way.”

Rivo nodded and locked the door behind them, motioning for Murphy to walk in front of him again. Murphy walked quickly but cautiously, swiveling his head from side to side and looking for an opportunity to make his move. People were swarming the streets in their usual daytime bartering and arguing. After so many weeks in the tower, the noise and smell of so many humans were an assault on his senses. The light was too bright, making him squint. Neither he nor Rivo noticed the cloaked figure following them.

They were nearing a part of the city that was largely in ruins and abandoned and as they stepped in between two burned out buildings, Murphy stopped suddenly.

“What the hell?” Rivo asked, reaching forward to give him a shove. “Keep moving.”

Murphy grabbed Rivo by the wrist and pulled him off balance. Whipping his other hand to Rivo’s hip, he grasped the knife and pulled it from the sheath.

**_“You won’t be able to kill him with it, so wherever you stick him, make it count.”_ **

He spun around, ducked Rivo’s fist coming at his face, and drove the knife into Rivo’s knee, burying it just behind the kneecap.

“Fuck!” Rivo screamed, falling to the ground and grabbing at the knife sticking in his leg. Murphy kicked him hard in the face, knocking him backwards. He sprinted away, darting into a dark doorway and frantically began searching for something, anything to help him take Rivo down. He was inside a bombed out building with weak daylight streaming through in dim jagged bands from the destroyed ceiling. Pigeons scattered as he crept across the dirt floor. His eyes caught on a pile of long steel poles stacked on the far side of the room and he scrambled forward, grabbing one just as he heard Rivo make it inside the door. Blood was gushing from his leg and his face as he hobbled across the room screaming obscenities at Murphy.

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing, you stupid little whore,” Rivo hissed at him. “But I’m dragging your ass back to that tower right now and me and Bayliss are going to take you apart.”

“Bayliss is dead, you fucking moron,” Murphy yelled. Rivo stared at him, uncomprehending at first. Then his expression changed to one of pure wrath. He clenched his fists and advanced on Murphy.

“I’ve got this,” he whispered to himself, to Bellamy, to whatever gods might still be listening to him. Running forward he raised the steel pole in a swinging arc and brought it down towards Rivo’s head. Rivo raised his arm just in time to catch the brunt of the blow and barked in agony as the pole connected with his forearm. He staggered but didn’t go down.

“God damn it, what is it gonna take to kill you?” Murphy screamed at him. He tried to raise the pole again, but Rivo grabbed it and yanked it forward, taking Murphy with it. Rearing his head back he gave Murphy a powerful head butt and Murphy staggered and fell backwards, scrambling back as quick as he could. Rivo advanced on him, swinging the pole upwards and catching him on the chin. Collapsing onto his back, Murphy let out a hard exhale as Rivo leaped onto his chest, grabbed the pole in both hands and brought it down to Murphy’s throat. Murphy squirmed uselessly under the larger man’s weight, trying to push the pole away from his neck.

He wanted to tell Emori he loved her. For some reason he’d never done that. Why hadn’t he done that? He wanted to go back to the beginning, when they first stepped off that drop ship. He would have done everything differently. He wouldn’t have made Charlotte think she had no choice but to throw herself off that cliff. He never would have shot Raven. Mostly, he wanted to tell Bellamy he was sorry. He had tried and failed. He was sorry Bellamy had put faith in him. No one else ever had.

His vision was narrowing to a pin prick, but he wanted just one last look at the sunlight. He shifted his eyes off Rivo’s face and towards one of the narrow sunbeams over his head. There was a beauty to it that he couldn’t put into words. It seemed to be pointing him to the way home. He didn’t want to leave Bellamy behind, but it was obvious now that this was a journey he was going to be taking alone.

There was break in the light, a shadow that shifted so quickly he thought he imagined it. And then suddenly, Rivo released the pole that was choking the life out of him. He inhaled the air like a drowning man, light and dust now swimming in front of his eyes. He blinked and Rivo was rising off his body, but his movements were like those of a puppet on the end of a string. His arms were limp at his sides and his eyes were glassy. He made a gurgling sound and coughed blood all over Murphy’s face. It was then that Murphy looked down at Rivo’s chest and saw that a spear had run him all the way through, the point protruding from a spot just to the left of his sternum. He coughed a second time as his body was flung to the side by a force Murphy had yet to see. As Rivo collapsed next to him, Murphy looked up to see the most intimidating woman he had ever laid eyes on. Her fierce expression made him want to crawl into the shadows and pray she wasn’t about to spear him next.

“Are you John Murphy?” she asked, pulling her spear from Rivo’s lifeless body and wiping the tip on his jacket.  
“Uhhhh, maybe?” he said. “Who are you?”

“Indra kom Trikru,” the woman said. She put her hand out to help Murphy up. “Come with me.”

*****************************************************************************

Murphy was sprinting to keep up with the strange woman who had just saved his life. “Hey! Can you tell me where we’re going?” he yelled to her. She ignored him, her gaze shifting from side to side as she hustled through the crowded street, Murphy on her heels. He reached forward and grabbed her arm. She turned to look at him and he almost wished he hadn’t.

“My friend. He’s in danger. I have to go help him,” he panted.

“If your friend is Bellamy, then you’re helping him by following me,” she pulled her arm away and kept moving.

“Damn it!” he yelled, picking up his pace.

Indra rounded a corner and ducked into a dark building. Murphy hesitated, then followed. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could make out two other forms in the room besides he and Indra.

“Murphy,” a familiar voice said. “You’re alive.” Clarke Griffin moved out of the shadows and walked towards him. Nathan Miller was close behind her.

“Where’s Bellamy, you fucking traitor?” he shouted at him. Clarke put her arm out to keep Miller away from Murphy, who had shrunk away from both of them.

“Clarke,” he started. “I need to get back to the tower. Bellamy’s alive, but he’s...”

“He’s what?” her face betrayed her concern.

“Ontari has him. She...”

“Why are you out and he’s still there?” Clarke asked. “Was this part of Emori’s plan?”

“Emori?” Murphy’s heart skipped a beat. “She’s here?” He scanned the room hopefully.

“No,” Clarke said. “She’s with Monty and Harper, nearby.”

“How do you know Emori?” Murphy was completely baffled.

“She came to us. Trying to save your sorry ass,” Miller scoffed. “But it looks like you’ve already saved yourself.”

Clarke now looked as angry as Miller. “You need to tell me everything, right now.”

Murphy flung his hands out in despair. “This was part of Bellamy’s plan, alright? We work to get me free, I come to Arkadia and get help.” He looked back and forth at Clarke and Miller who both looked very skeptical. “What? I was on my way to you. I had to kill the guard first.”

Clarke looked to Indra who nodded. “That part’s true. He was fighting with the guard when I got to him.” She frowned at Murphy. “Good thing I showed up when I did. He definitely wasn’t winning.”

Murphy rolled his eyes. “Fine, I was getting my ass kicked. Thank you for saving me.” Indra raised an eyebrow and shrugged. He turned back to Clarke. “We weren’t going to be able to force our way out of the building. Getting Ontari to trust me and let me just walk out was the best strategy. I swear, I was on my way to you.” She stared at him. “Clarke, please. Trust me.”

“Do you know what the Grounder tradition is regarding marriage and...” Clarke couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“Marriage and whores?” Murphy finished for her. “Yeah, you can’t do both. Ontari thought she was sending me to kill you so Bellamy would be a widow...and available.” Clarke tilted her head and regarded him.

“What? I wasn’t going to actually kill you,” he responded. “We just needed a reason for me to leave.”

“Well now you have a reason to go back,” Clarke said.

Murphy was nodding. “Tell me what to do.”  
“I can’t just knock on the door,” Clarke replied. “So I need you to go back to Ontari and deliver a message.” She relayed exactly what she wanted him to say.

“Okay,” Murphy was already heading toward the doorway.

“Murphy?” Clarke called after him. He turned.

“We’re here to save you, too. We won’t leave until both you and Bellamy are safe.”

He nodded and walked out.

*****************************************************************************

_He had been kneeling in front of Cage’s armchair for over two hours, his arms bound painfully behind him at the elbows. Cage was reading a book about Roman emperors, every so often reading a passage aloud. He didn’t remember telling Cage he liked history, but he must have. Cage read without inflection, apparently to lull him into relaxing. The second his chin dropped or his shoulders lowered, Cage held a shock baton to his chest, making him bolt upright again._

_“Do you know how many types of pain there are?” Cage asked out of the blue, closing the book and holding it in his lap._

_“No, sir,” Bellamy said._

_“How many would you say you’ve experienced?” he asked._

_He bit his lip, afraid of giving the wrong answer. “I lost count. I’m sorry...sir.”_

_Cage smiled at him. “That’s okay. So have I.” He rose from his chair and placed the book back in the shelf._

_“Some of the best emperors were the ones considered most cruel.” He walked back and stood behind Bellamy, stroking his head as he would a pet._

_“Caligula,” Bellamy said, fighting the urge to shy away from Cage’s touch._

_“What about him?” asked Cage._

_“People thought he had a lot of promise, at first.”_

_“And then?”_

_“Then he went insane,” Bellamy said. “He was paranoid, erratic, inhumane. He ordered his soldiers to go to war with the sea.”_

_Cage chuckled. “Is this a cautionary tale? Do you think of me as Caligula?”_

_“Caligula thought he was immortal,” Bellamy said. “He was murdered. Not as immortal as he thought.”_

_“What do you think about, Bellamy?” Cage asked, moving around in front of him and staring down at him._

_“What do you mean?” he responded._

_“When I’m fucking you. Where do you go? I can tell your mind is somewhere else. I want to know where.”_

_Bellamy was shaking his head. “No. You don’t get to know that.”_

_Cage sat back down in his chair and crossed his legs. He started laughing, quietly at first, then louder, and louder still until Bellamy couldn’t take it._

_“Stop it! Why are you laughing?”_

_Cage leaned forward in his chair. “Because I know exactly where you go, Bellamy. We’re here together.”_

_Cage’s room morphed into Bellamy’s tiny quarters on the Ark. Aurora stood behind Cage, her mouth moving but no sound came to his ears. A six year old Octavia was holding her hand out to him. He shook his head and his tormentor now sat on Bellamy’s own bed. Clarke lay just behind him asleep, her body curled around his tiny daughter._

_Bellamy began to cry. “Get out of my head!” he sobbed. “You’re not real.”_

_“I don’t have to be real anymore. Thanks to you, I’m immortal. I’ll be with you forever.” Cage started laughing again, drowning out Bellamy’s screams._

****************************************************************************

The blows from the crop were coming harder now. He couldn’t find a place to escape. Cage now occupied the one place he could always hide. He was in every corner of Bellamy’s mind, every memory now sabotaged. His last sanctuary had been violated. He howled in frustration.

Ontari was watching Bellamy with a wary gaze. His head was turned to the side and his eyes closed tight. She used the end of the crop to turn his head towards her. He opened his eyes but appeared to be looking through her.

“You don’t belong here,” he cried. “Please, just leave me alone!”

She slapped him hard across the face, hoping he would finally focus on her, but he barely blinked. Still, the beating she’d administered had had the desired effect, she noticed with a smile. She unfastened his pants, pulling them down over his hips. Straddling him, she began kissing his chest, biting his nipple hard enough to make him yelp. He didn’t fight her though, leaving his arms thrown over his head as though they were in fact bound, his hands gripping the iron rails of the headboard. Her own hands roamed everywhere across his skin, hot to the touch, as she worked her way further down his body. He moaned softly when she wrapped one hand tightly around the base of his cock and took him into her mouth. She raised her eyes to watch his reaction as she began to work him with her tongue, pleased to see that he still didn’t move his hands. Instead, he obediently raised his hips to offer himself to her, his head thrown back, his mouth open. She had never seen anything so arousing as this beautiful man, so perfectly trained to give pleasure, completely under her control. Ontari wanted to possess every inch of him at once, she wanted to hurt him, please him, devour him. He was whimpering incoherently now, but she was beyond caring about deciphering his words. She slowly pulled her mouth away from his cock and positioned herself above him, ready to drive her hips down and take him all the way into her body.

****************************************************************************

Murphy flung the door open and took in the scene in seconds. Ontari was straddling Bellamy, who was writhing underneath her and whispering to himself. He was facing Murphy but didn’t give any indication he recognized him or even knew he was in the room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Ontari yelled. “Get out!”

Murphy hesitated, but then advanced into the room. He put his hands out in a placating gesture and lowered his eyes, more out of consideration for Bellamy than showing obedience.

“I’m...sorry, Heda,” he stammered.

She flung herself off the bed and threw a robe over her shoulders. Stepping menacingly into his space, she was nearly spitting with fury. “You’re supposed to be on your way to Arkadia. Murdering his wife.” She gestured to Bellamy. Murphy looked over her shoulder at Bellamy, who had turned his head away and pulled his arms into his chest, which was covered with the marks of Ontari’s crop. He swallowed hard and tried to look convincingly unconcerned about the man on the bed, even though he felt nauseous and disoriented. Ontari gave him a closer look, finally noticing the blood on his face and the bruises on his throat.

“Where’s Rivo?” she asked, suspicion dripping from her voice.

“He’s dead,” Murphy replied. “We were attacked. There’s been a change of plans.”

“What do you mean?” Ontari asked.

“I don’t have to go to Arkadia after all. His wife is here.” Murphy said. “Wanheda demands her husband back.”


	8. Hard Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke demands Bellamy's return, but Ontari isn't so easily swayed. Bellamy has to confront his demons or lose himself, and only Murphy can help him. Murphy is given a hard choice.

***********************************************************************************************************************************

Ontari began dressing quickly, speaking to John as she went.

“Wanheda? You fucking idiot! You told me you knew who his wife was!”

Murphy sighed. “I know who Clarke Griffin is. How the hell am I supposed to know that’s the same person? I’ve been chained to your bed for the past few weeks. I haven’t really kept up on current events.” Ontari glared at him and he looked to the ground. “I’m sorry...Heda. I really didn’t know.”

She wrapped a belt around her waist and tucked a dagger into it. “Where is she now?”  
  
“She’s in the Great Hall.”

“Then I guess I’ll just go do your job for you.” Ontari was heading to the door. Murphy glanced at Bellamy, who hadn’t moved or even acknowledged he had heard them.

“I would advise against that,” Murphy said.

“Really? Why’s that?”

“She didn’t come to Polis alone. She claims if her people don’t hear from her, then they have orders.”

“Orders? Orders for what?”

Murphy stepped in close and leaned into her ear. “They know you don’t have the flame. They’ll start spreading that rumor and you’ll be forced to prove you’re the true commander.” He stood up straight and bit his lower lip. “And we both know where that’ll lead.” He looked over his shoulder at Bellamy. “I say you just let him go. He can’t be worth the risk of exposing yourself. When you get the flame, you know where he lives. Just go kill Clarke then and drag him back here. Problem solved.”

Ontari considered his words for a minute. “Chain him up, and don’t leave this room.” She stormed out.

“Yes, Heda,” Murphy said to her retreating form. 

***********************************************************************

Ontari threw the doors to the Great Hall open and nearly stepped on one of her guards who lay dead on the floor. Blood had formed a large, pooling circle around the gaping wound in his throat and his empty eyes stared towards the woman with her back to door. She stepped over the body.

“What the hell is this?” she shouted. The blonde woman turned slowly, her hand still grasping a bloody dagger. Ontari gestured to the dead guard.

“I told him I was here to speak to you, but he didn’t seem to think that was a good idea.” Clarke said simply. “For some reason, he thought you might want me dead instead.” She wiped the dagger off on her jeans and slipped it back into her waistband. “That little weasel you sent to kill me failed too. I assume he gave you my message?”

Ontari narrowed her eyes and walked slowly towards Clarke. “He did. He also said you weren’t alone.” She looked around the room. “Yet you appear to be. Did you think I would just turn Bellamy over to you and the two of you would just walk out of here?”

“He’s my husband. I’m here to make a claim to him. It’s my right.”  
“You may know our traditions well. But you may not know I have the right to deny your claim if I’ve already taken him into my bed.” she smiled at Clarke.

Clarke stared at her. “What are you saying?”

“That tradition began a long time ago. The Commanders, men mostly, often took young women as concubines.” She rolled her eyes. “Leave it to men to come up with a way to confiscate all the best property, you know?” She continued. “But the law was passed that only women who weren’t married could be acquired.”

“The youngest women,” Clarke muttered in disgust.

“Exactly. So, as people caught on, they started marrying their daughters to young men in the community, just to keep them safe. They didn’t consummate the marriage, some of the girls were quite young. It was just a way to protect them.”

“So the marriage wasn’t technically legal,” Clarke had already figured out where this was headed. “Sorry to tell you, Ontari, but my marriage to Bellamy was most definitely consummated.”

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Ontari said. “But I wasn’t aware he was married and now that he’s here, and he’s been...put to use, I’m afraid I have an equal claim to him.”

“If you hurt him...” Clarke began.

“Oh, Clarke,” Ontari laughed. “Of course I hurt him. I made him bleed. I had him crying like a child. He seemed to really like it though.” Clarke lunged at her, but Ontari swiftly stepped away and eyed Clarke unflinchingly. “If you want your husband to remain living, I suggest you don’t come that close to me again,” she said.

“If you don’t want my people to spread the truth about you, I suggest you turn my husband over to me. Now.” Clarke replied.

Ontari laughed. “You won’t do that. Not until Bellamy is free. Because if I have to prove my legitimacy as Commander, I will publicly slit his throat, right after I announce he was the murderer of dozens of our people.” She could sense Clarke backing down. “And I’ll make sure he knows you’re here before I kill him. I’ll let him know that his Wanheda let him die.”

“I am not leaving here without him,” Clarke stepped toward Ontari. “If you want a war, you’ll have a war. But if you think you’re scaring me by threatening the man I love, you don’t know me.”

“I don’t think you’re scared,” Ontari conceded. “I also don’t think you’re stupid. So I’ll make you an offer.”

Clarke studied her with suspicion. “Go on.”

“Another tradition. Combat. Winner gets the whore,” Ontari smirked. Her laughter was cut short when Clarke swung her fist and landed a hard blow to her face.

“Don’t...you...ever call him that, you bitch,” she hissed. Ontari held her hand to her face and glared at Clarke.

“The rules, if you agree,” she said. “We can enter the combat ourselves or option to have a Second fight in our place. I’ll even show you some mercy. It won’t be a fight to the death. Winner is the first one to draw blood. Agreed?”

“And if I don’t agree?” Clarke asked.

Ontari shrugged. “You can go spread your worthless rumors, I’ll go fuck your husband, and then I’ll kill him in the morning.” She waited as Clarke paced angrily back and forth.

“Okay,” she finally said. “I agree. When?”

“Tomorrow,” Ontari said. She walked to the door and rapped loudly. Two more guards came in. Ontari gestured to Clarke.

“She’s our guest this evening. Take her to one of the bedrooms and bring her dinner. She doesn’t leave here or talk to anyone. Understood?”

“Yes, Heda,” the guard replied. “Put the dagger down,” he instructed Clarke. She dropped it to the floor and the guards each grabbed one of her arms.

“Guest, huh?” Clarke said.

“I’ll make sure you’re unharmed,” Ontari said. “If you have a name for a Second, you can pass that along.”

The guards began to lead her past Ontari, who gestured for them to pause. She walked up and eyed Clarke playfully.

“I need to get back to Bellamy. I left him in a bit of...distress.” She tilted her head and gave Clarke a salacious grin.

Clarke began fighting to free herself of the two men. “I’m going to kill you,” she spat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow...Wanheda,” Ontari replied as Clarke was dragged out of the room.

*******************************************************************

As soon as the door closed, Murphy rushed to Bellamy’s side and sat down on the edge of the bed. Bellamy’s entire body was tensed and he had wrapped his arms around himself. He was shivering so Murphy pulled a blanket over him.

“Bellamy? You okay?” he asked. Bellamy lifted his head, opened his eyes and stared right through Murphy.

“I...killed...you,” he murmured. Immediately, Murphy knew who Bellamy was talking to. He leaned towards him.

“You’ll have to kill me here, too. If you want to be free,” he whispered, tapping Bellamy lightly on the temple.

“I can’t!” he cried. His breath was coming in ragged gasps. He began muttering again, engaged in a conversation that Murphy could only hear one side of.

“Of what?” Bellamy asked. There was a pause, then he shook his head.

“No,” he whispered. “No”...“What do you want?”... “I...don’t...belong to you,” he gasped.

He knew if Bellamy couldn’t find a way to defeat Cage, the man would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life. If there was one thing John Murphy understood, it was what it was like to be trapped in your own hell. He’d been so used to blaming Bellamy for all of that, he had been almost relieved to discover that in the past two days, he’d somehow come to take some of the blame himself. He was ready to be free of the guilt and fear and he knew it was Bellamy that had helped him come to that realization. It was time to repay the favor.

He closed his eyes and tried to swallow the shame in what he was about to do.

“You want me to live in your head forever? Huh?” Murphy yelled at him. “You want to know why I’ve tortured you for so long? Because you’re weak!” He backhanded Bellamy across the face. In an instant, Bellamy’s expression changed. His eyes grew black with fury. He threw his head back, his body convulsed in rage, his fists clenched.

“Slay your demons, Bellamy. I’ll be right here,” he sighed, resting his elbows on his knees to wait.

***********************************************************************

_Cage leaned forward in his chair and tapped Bellamy lightly on the temple._

_“You’ll have to kill me here, too. If you want to be free,” he whispered. Bellamy strained against the bonds around his arms, tears streaming down his face._

_“I can’t!” he cried. His breath was coming in ragged gasps._

_Cage snorted. He stood up and walked across the room behind him, causing Bellamy to panic. He shifted in an effort to look behind him._

_“I didn’t tell you to move!” Cage barked at him. Bellamy froze and waited for the pain to come, a blow to the head, a shock baton to the ribs. His whole body tensed in expectation. A minute passed, then another._

_“Please,” he whispered. He wasn’t even sure what he was pleading for. For Cage to return to his line of sight? For him to administer the punishment he was sure was coming? He could hear Cage pouring himself a drink, heard his footsteps as he made his way back across the room._

_He sat back down in front of Bellamy and sipped his drink, eyeing him over the rim of his glass._

_“Why won’t you kill me?” Bellamy asked. “You hate me. Can’t you just put us both out of our misery?”_

_Cage smiled. “Why would I want to do that? I will never tire of this.”_

_“Of what?” Bellamy asked._

_“Of watching this internal struggle of yours. This constant need you have to be defiant, when what you really want is to give in.” He took another sip of his drink. “And you know that’s what you want, deep down. You don’t want to be in control of anything, do you? Your body, your mind. You like them belonging to me. Just give in to that.”_

_Bellamy shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “No.”_

_Cage shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I still get what I want.”_

_“What do you want?”_

_“You. At my mercy. Suffering when I decide you should suffer, begging when I decide you should beg, feeling pleasure when I decide you should feel pleasure.”_

_“I...don’t...belong to you,” he gasped._

_Bellamy could feel himself giving in, could feel the urge to lay his head on Cage’s knee. Hoping if he did so, Cage would finally let him rest and not hurt him anymore._

_Cage regarded him with an expression of amusement._

_“You want me to live in your head forever? Huh?” He yelled at him. “You want to know why I’ve tortured you for so long? Because you’re weak!” He backhanded him across the face._

_Bellamy raised his head, his eyes now black with fury. Cage noticed his change of expression and stood up, towering over him._

_“What are you going to do, hmm?”_

_Bellamy shut his eyes and whispered to himself. “I’m not afraid.”_

_As he said the words, he felt something like another presence in the room. He kept his eyes closed, his strength growing as he willed the presence closer. There was a light touch on his arms, he could feel the binding around his elbows loosening and dropping to the floor. As they did so he rose to his feet and turned to see Clarke by his side. He turned his head to find Octavia on his other side, smiling her enigmatic smile._

_“You got this, big brother,” she said. He felt her press something into his hand and looked down to see he was holding one of her longblades. He grasped the handle tight and brought it up in front of him. Cage’s eyes grew wide as he took a step back. He stumbled and fell back into the chair._

_“You won’t kill me,” he snarled. “You can’t stand the idea of being alone inside your head, can you? You’ll miss the pain. It’s part of you.”_

_Bellamy raised the blade and touched it to Cage’s chest. “Not anymore.” He used both hands to shove the blade in with all the force he could muster, stopping only when it had pierced all the way through both Cage and the chair. Cage’s mouth opened and closed, spewing blood down his chin. Bellamy put his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned over Cage, watching him struggle to breath. Cage’s eyes began to close but Bellamy grabbed his hair and jerked his head up._

_“No! You look at me. I want to see the second your life is finally over,” he hissed, bringing his face within inches of Cage’s. Cage again tried to speak._

_“You’ll be alone,” he gasped._

_“No, I won’t,” Bellamy assured him. “I never was.”_

_Cage’s eyes grew empty as his life drained away. Bellamy released his hair and his head dropped heavily to his chest. He rose and looked around. Clarke and Octavia had disappeared, but he knew just where to find them. He walked to the door, then turned and took a final look at the room where he had been subjected to so much pain and abuse. The details began to fade, Cage’s lifeless body slumped in his chair began to waver in his vision. He turned back to the door, which had always been locked when he was a prisoner here. Putting his hand on the knob, he found it turned easily. As the door opened, sunlight washed over him and he stepped into the light._

*****************************************************************************

Murphy was still sitting at Bellamy’s side. He had gone from whispering, to silence, to shouting. He was beginning to wonder if he had done the right thing by forcing Bellamy to stay inside this stupor.   
“Maybe I just need to wake you up,” he said to himself. He was just about to grab Bellamy and shake him when the door opened suddenly. He looked up to see Emori standing in the door.

“John!” she rushed over as he stood up and flung her arms around him. He buried his face in her hair, in utter disbelief that she was here. She tried to pull back and look at him, but he hugged her more tightly to him.

“No, just let me have this,” he whispered. She laughed and put her arms back around him, smiling as she rested her head against his chest.

When he eventually released his embrace she finally moved her eyes to Bellamy. She gave John a quizzical look.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked.

Murphy gave a little shrug. “He’s in some kind of...pain induced trance? I don’t know exactly.”

Emori’s eyes travelled down Bellamy’s chest, taking in the welts Ontari’s crop had left behind. She gave John a wary look. “Did you do that to him?”

“Me? No! Ontari did that. I...uh,” he stopped. “I was,” he stopped again, realizing he couldn’t exactly tell Emori that he had been free just a couple of hours before and had opted to come back rather than run for his life and try to find her.

“How did you get in here?” he asked.

“It’s a long story,” she smiled. “I had one of the guards kidnap Bellamy and bring him here to trade for you. Then...”

“You what?!” he hissed.

“Shhhh,” Emori glanced behind her. “Do you want them to find me? I had to escape Clarke and her friends already.”

“Clarke told me you came to her for help,” Murphy said. His head was starting to spin. “She didn’t tell me you’re the reason he’s here.” It finally made sense what Clarke was referring to when she had asked if he was in on Emori’s plan.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Let’s go.” She grabbed his hand.

“No, Emori. It does matter,” Murphy replied, pulling his hand free.

A look of realization crossed Emori’s face. “When did you talk to Clarke?” she asked warily.

Murphy sighed. “I was on my way to Arkadia. It was part of a plan for me and Bellamy to escape.”

Emori was already shaking her head. “You could have been gone by now. Why the hell are you still here, John?” She gestured to Bellamy. “And I hope you aren’t about to tell me it’s because of him. The man who tried to hang you. The man who exiled you from your home!” She was livid.

Murphy looked at the ceiling, trying to find the right words.

“I’m not leaving him,” he finally said.

“You’re not leaving him?” she repeated. “Why not? Look at him. He doesn’t even know you’re here.”

He turned to look at Bellamy and felt an ache in his heart. “Emori, he believes in me,” he said, his voice faltering. “And no one else ever has.”

Emori took his hand again, her voice gentle now. “I believe in you, John. And I love you. Now please, come with me.”

He had never wanted anything in his life more than he wanted to run out the door, get out of this god forsaken tower, and never look back. But to do that would mean betraying Bellamy, and he already knew he was never going to do that.

“Emori,” he said quietly, taking both her hands in his. “When he wakes up, he won’t know that Clarke’s here. He won’t know I held up my end of the deal. And he won’t know that I...” he faltered.

“That you’re what, John?”

“That I’m worthy of his trust. If you believe in me, then believe that I need to stay, and believe that I’ll find you when this is over.” His face clearly betrayed the pain he was in. “Please.”

“I risked my life to get you out of here, John,” Emori said. “If I walk out of here, I can’t promise you’ll see me again.”

“I’m sorry,” John whispered. “I can’t.”

Emori wiped tears from her face. “Fine. Stay here. I’m sure Bellamy will appreciate your loyalty. Just like he did before.” She turned and opened the door, peering cautiously down the hall before looking back at him.

“Goodbye, John.”

He watched her go and waited until the door closed before he wiped his face with his shirt sleeve.

“Way to go, Murphy. You really are a loser,” he whispered.

“John?” he heard Bellamy call from across the room, turned to see him sitting up in the bed.

“Yeah, Bellamy.” He walked over and sat down next to him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Um. I think...I think I killed Cage.” Bellamy said.

“Again?” Murphy snorted. “That must feel pretty good.”

A slow smile spread across Bellamy’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, it does. I think it’s for good this time.”

Murphy smiled back at him. “One less thing to worry about.”

“Wait. Why are you here?” Bellamy asked. “We had a plan.”

“Ah, where to begin,” Murphy said.


	9. Escape Velocity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is Bellamy's only hope of escaping the tower. A surprise ally may be able to help make it happen. Murphy needs to decide if he really has a home in Arkadia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long for this final chapter. I appreciate whoever stuck around until the end. Season 7 threw me off and I'm still grieving for the way things are apparently turning out. I hope you enjoy this story. I promise only happy endings as long as you are willing to work through the angst! Happy reading:)

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Clarke paced, cursing herself for agreeing to this stupid plan. She sat on the edge of the bed, wrung her hands, and stood, pacing again. She should have just come in with guns blazing, broken the damn door down and pulled Bellamy out of this tower herself. Now he was still trapped, probably being further abused by Ontari while she sat here, useless.

“God damn it,” she muttered. She could have asked Indra to be her Second in the combat tomorrow. Indra was by far better at hand-to-hand combat than she was herself. But that would have put her in a difficult position of appearing to defy the woman who could very well be her future commander. She wouldn’t do that to Indra. Octavia would have been her next choice, but she was back at Arkadia, protecting Madi. Clarke was the only one, the only chance her husband had of getting free of this place. And she wasn’t sure she could do it.

******************************************************************************

“Murphy? You’re supposed to be on your way to Arkadia. Clarke needs to...”

“Clarke’s here, Bellamy,” Murphy interrupted.

Bellamy shook his head like he hadn’t heard him correctly. “No, that’s not possible. How would she have known?”

“Emori,” Murphy sighed, looking down at his hands. “She found Clarke, Miller and the others. They were out looking for you. She told them where you were.”

Bellamy stared at him for a minute. “How did she know I was here?”

Murphy stood and turned away from Bellamy. He wasn’t sure how to start this explanation. “She...uh,” he turned back and tried to look at Bellamy who was eyeing him with suspicion. “She’s the reason you’re here, actually.”

Bellamy sat up straighter. “What? What do you mean ‘she’s the reason I’m here?’ I was kidnapped from Arkadia. I’ve never even met Emori.”

“No, but she heard about you...from me. She followed the two grounders who brought me here so she knew I was being held. She tried to make a trade, you for me,” he paused and lowered his voice. “She led them to you. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Bellamy could see from Murphy’s expression that he was telling the truth. He nodded slowly. “Okay. I believe you.” He rose from the bed and slipped into his pants. Murphy winced at the sight of all the bleeding marks from Ontari’s crop across Bellamy’s torso. Bellamy himself seemed not to even notice them. “Where’s Clarke now?” he asked.

“Ontari went down to meet her,” Murphy could see the worry play across Bellamy’s face. “She won’t hurt her.”

“How do you know that?” Bellamy barked.

“Because I told her Clarke wasn’t alone. And that she knew Ontari doesn’t have the Flame.” He faltered. “It was all I could think of to keep her from going into attack mode.”

“Okay. That was probably smart.” Bellamy assured him. “Clarke will know how to play that card.” He ran his hands through his hair. “So what do we do now?” he asked.

Murphy threw his hands up in desperation. “I don’t know. But I know that Clarke and Miller and the rest... they’re gonna get you out of here. Okay?”

“And you?” Bellamy asked. He was standing so close to him, it was making Murphy’s head spin with desire. “Are they going to get you out of here, too?”

Murphy gave a tiny shrug. “They said they would,” his voice cracked. “I...fucked up. I’m sorry.”

He felt Bellamy’s hand on his shoulder, giving him a small squeeze. “Murphy, I already swore to you that I’m not leaving here without you. I meant it.”

Murphy nodded. “um...” he started.

“What is it?” Bellamy asked.

“Ontari told me I had to...chain you up...before she comes back.”

Bellamy tilted his head and gave him a frown. “Are you fucking kidding me? No.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that,” Murphy said.

He raised his eyes to Bellamy’s. “Have you ever told Clarke?”

“Told her what?”

“What Cage really did to you? I mean, I know you told her you were a prisoner and even a whore. But...does she know what happened? All of it? The torture, the experiments, the drugs?”

Bellamy looked away, his lower lip trembling. “I...uh, I thought I could handle it, Murphy. I really did. The nightmares were getting less. I was able to shut out more and more of it. But, no. I never told her all of it. Just...bits and pieces.”  
  
“Why not?” Murphy asked.

“I want to be strong in her eyes. If she knows what Cage did to me. What I let him do to me...I’d be,” he stopped.

“You’d be her husband. Still.” Murphy said quietly. “And she’ll still love you and think you’re strong. My god, Bellamy. I can’t believe you survived all that. It isn’t weakness that got you through it.” He paused. “You need to tell her.”

Bellamy sighed. “I will. If I get the chance,” he said. They were interrupted by Ontari flinging the door open and walking toward them. Two guards with swords drawn followed her in. The rage on her face made both of them take a step back.

“Heda,” Murphy began, putting his hands up to placate her. She responded by throwing a vicious punch to his face. He staggered and Bellamy reached out to steady him. Murphy held his hand to his jaw. “He just woke up,” he started to explain.

“He’s supposed to be in chains,” she replied, gesturing to Bellamy. “Now do as you were told.”

Bellamy and Murphy looked at each other and Bellamy lowered his head and walked to the wall where the collar was waiting. Murphy fastened it around his neck with an apologetic glance. Bellamy held his hands out for Murphy to cuff them together. “She’ll get you out,” he whispered. He turned back to Ontari who motioned for him to come stand in front of her.

“Tell me you didn’t have anything to do with Clarke Griffin showing up here today,” she demanded.

“I didn’t. I swear,” Murphy replied. She punched him in the gut, making him double over.

“I don’t believe you,” she said through gritted teeth.

“It’s true,” Murphy groaned, attempting to stand upright. She landed another punch to his face. “Heda, please. I was following your orders. We were ambushed by Clarke,” she punched him again.

“Enough!” Bellamy yelled. “If you’re that angry, you can take it out on me. He didn’t do anything.” He was seated on the floor, his back leaning against the wall to which he was chained.

She gave him a strange look. “Why are you taking up for him? I thought he betrayed you.”

“He did,” Bellamy responded. “But he’s telling you the truth.”

Ontari walked slowly over to Bellamy and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back and bending over so she was close to his face.

“Tomorrow morning, your beloved wife will die. She thinks it’s a fight for first blood, but it’s a fight to the death. My Second, Echo, will kill her easily.” She missed the flash of recognition pass over Bellamy’s face at Echo’s name. “And you, Bellamy Blake, will have a front row seat. And if I have to beat you black and blue every day for the rest of your life in order for you to perform your function here, then I will.” She flung his head back against the wall with force and walked back to Murphy.

“Get undressed,” she barked. Murphy hesitated and glanced at Bellamy who was staring at the floor, earning him another punch in the face. “I said undress, you useless whore!” Ontari screamed.

“Okay, okay,” Murphy started shrugging out of his clothes. He lay back on the bed and Ontari locked his wrists to the bed posts.

“When I get back, if you want to stay alive, you’ll need to remind me why I keep you here at all.” She stood and walked out with the guards close behind.

It was getting dark in the room and Ontari had not bothered to light any candles before she left. Bellamy could just make out Murphy’s form on the bed, heard him sigh heavily.

“That went well, don’t you think?” Murphy asked.

******************************************************************************

Bellamy slept fitfully, full of anxiety about what the dawn would bring. Ontari had not thrown so much as a blanket onto the floor, so he curled into himself for warmth, only able to doze in short spans before his body began aching from the cold, hard floor underneath him. At some point in the night he heard Ontari come in and begin muttering insults at Murphy as she undressed. He was thankful he was lying in the shadows and that Murphy wouldn’t be able to tell he was awake. He watched as Ontari climbed on top of John and shoved a gag into his mouth before moving her head down between his legs. Murphy’s muffled moans filled the room. Eventually, Ontari shifted and straddled Murphy, bringing her hands up to close around his throat. He struggled initially, then stilled as she began to ride him, continuing to debase him with her words. Bellamy closed his eyes and tried to block the whole humiliating scene out of his mind. He was resolved more than ever that he was not leaving Polis without John Murphy.

******************************************************************************

The early morning light brought Clarke’s eyes slowly open. She wasn’t ready to leave her dreams behind, where she and Bellamy had been laying on the ground in the sun, Madi between them. Bellamy had looked at her and smiled, running a strand of her hair through his fingers. It had seemed so real.

Now, here she was, about to defend her right to free Bellamy and bring him home. And she really didn’t feel up to the task. She felt weak, tired, her mind buzzing with the possible scenarios in which she lost and Bellamy was dragged into the tower for the rest of his life. She sat up and pulled her arms around her knees.

“Just breathe, Clarke. Focus on what needs to be done.” She looked up as the door opened and a guard walked in with a platter. He put in on the table and looked at her.

“Eat fast. Heda will expect you soon.” He shut the door. She stood up, stretched and looked down at the plate of food. Her anxiety was going to make it impossible to eat anything.

She had been waiting, her nerves raw and singing, for what seemed like an hour, when Indra slipped into the small room and approached her. She knelt down in front of her and took her hands in her own.

“She chose a Second,” she said matter-of-factly. “You won’t fight Ontari, but the woman she chose is formidable.” Clarke nodded, not the least bit surprised. Indra continued to speak. “She’ll most likely have Bellamy...on display. You need to ignore it. She’s doing that to throw you off.”

Clarke scowled. “Indra, what do you mean, on display?”

Indra thought about how best to word her response. “He’s considered the prize in this fight. She’ll want him to look the part. It will be to humiliate him and to distract you. So, again, you need to ignore it. Bellamy will be fine. You’ll leave with him by the end of this.”

Clarke was wringing her hands. “What if I don’t though? You and I both know I’m not as skilled a fighter as you, or Octavia, or any of the grounders.” She put her head in her hands.

Indra pulled Clarke’s hands away from her face. “You look at me, Clarke,” she said quietly. Clarke raised her eyes to meet Indra’s. “You will win, because you have something worth fighting for. I’m not a person who puts much faith in love. At least, not the romantic kind. But you and Bellamy prove to me that it does exist. And it will survive. And so will you.” She stood up and pulled Clarke to her feet.

“Echo is left handed, so you need to watch for that. She uses daggers mainly.” Indra pulled two daggers from her own vest and handed them to Clarke. “Whatever you do, don’t hesitate. Because she won’t, I can promise you.”

Clarke nodded slowly. “Thank you, Indra. If I don’t win...”

Indra was already brushing her comment aside. “That’s not your fate, my friend. Not today.” She gave her a quick embrace. “Now I need to go rescue Murphy...again. I’ll see you...and Bellamy...outside Polis.”

She crept out of the small room, leaving Clarke alone with her thoughts.

She paced, thinking back to the lessons Octavia had begun with her on grounder fighting techniques. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would have to do. She pulled her shoes on, lacing them tightly, and pounded on the door. “I’m ready to go!” she shouted.

******************************************************************************

Murphy awoke in pain, his shoulders tight and aching from being stretched over his head for the last several hours. Ontari was up, dressed, and eating at the table. He shifted onto his side and looked at Bellamy, who was still sitting on the floor, still wearing his collar. He looked exhausted. A plate of half eaten food was on the floor near his feet.

Ontari stood and walked over to him, regarding him carefully.

“You need to be made presentable for your audience,” she smiled. She crossed the room and opened the door, gesturing the guards inside. She whispered some instructions to them and walked out.

The guards approached Bellamy, released his collar, and dragged him from the room. Murphy flung himself back on the bed and cursed.

When Bellamy finally returned with the guards, Murphy let out a small gasp upon seeing him. He was wearing loose fitting white pants, and he was bare from the waist up. His upper body was entirely covered with designs painted in purple and white. His hair had been combed into loose ringlet curls around his face, and dark eyeliner had been applied to his eyes. The look of utter shame on his face made Murphy drop his gaze. The guards led him to the center of the room and turned him around as Ontari entered. She was carrying a complex set of cuffs chained together.

She smiled and walked up to Bellamy.

“My beautiful prize,” she whispered. She brushed her fingers along his cheek. Bellamy jerked his head away, but one of the guards grabbed the back of his head and forced him to stand still as Ontari fastened the collar around his neck. A chain ran the length of his chest and connected the wrists cuffs, which she fastened next. She then knelt down in front of him and fastened the ankle restraints. When she was done, she stood and admired her work.

“One more thing,” she said, taking a thick gag and forcing it into his mouth, tying it tightly behind his head. Fastening a short chain to his collar she gave it a quick tug.

“Come on,” she laughed. “I’m ready to show you off.” She began walking and Bellamy was forced to move his feet in a short, quick, shuffle to keep from falling.

Murphy felt outrage burn in his gut. He pulled against his restraints. “Hey!” he yelled. She turned to look at him. “You don’t have to humiliate him like this,” Murphy said.

“What I do with him is none of your concern,” Ontari responded. She strode out of the room, leading Bellamy behind her.

The guards had remained silent the entire time. One of them walked to Murphy and released his restraints. He sighed in relief and rubbed his wrists together. When they left, locking the door behind them, he rose and wandered to the window, straining his eyes to see if he could make out any of what was happening below. A crowd had formed in the courtyard, leaving a large circular area empty. He leaned his head against the bar on the window and shut his eyes, wishing he felt as confident in Clarke’s victory as he had wanted Bellamy to believe.

***************************************************************************

Clarke was led through the gathering crowd into the open arena that had been formed at the base of the tower. She walked to the center and stood, taking deep breaths, willing herself to calm down. She became aware of another presence behind her and turned to see a tall brunette striding forward, a fierce expression on her face. She stood next to Clarke and gave her a curt nod. A slow murmuring began in the crowd and when Clarke turned around, she could see Ontari making her way through the crowd, a leather leash in her hand. Her heart sank as she saw Bellamy shuffling behind her, head down. Ontari continued into the arena, leading Bellamy around the perimeter as the crowd whistled and made obscene comments about his decorated body.

Clarke tried to focus on Indra’s words. Ontari was deliberately humiliating him and distracting her. She forced herself to stand still as tears formed in her eyes. Bellamy was nearly in front of her when he finally looked up. They made eye contact only briefly, but it was enough for her to see the world of pain in his eyes. Anger welled up in her and it was all she could do to not draw her dagger and run it through Ontari where she stood. Her hand gripped the handle tightly, but she remained still. Once Ontari had walked the entire perimeter of the arena, she gestured for a guard to bring her a chair. She sat down and yanked Bellamy’s leash, forcing him to the ground beside her. She put her hand on his head and stroked his hair, smiling at Clarke.

The second guard approached the two women, gesturing for them to face one another. Clarke was at least two inches shorter than Echo, but she glared up into her eyes, determined not to be intimidated. For her part, Echo looked calm and detached from the entire display. She appeared not to notice the crowd around her. At the guard’s direction, each woman took four steps back and drew their weapons. When the guard brought his hand down, they began circling one another.

Echo made a lunge forward that Clarke was able to dodge. She parried with a quick, ineffective slash to Echo’s left side. The two were both crouching low to the ground, eyes sharp, watching and waiting for an opening. Each move was countered and the crowd began to be restless, thirsty for blood. After several minutes, two things became clear to Clarke. One, that Echo was clearly the superior fighter. And two, she was deliberately missing her mark.

“What are you doing,” she hissed quietly. “Is this some kind of game to you?” She lunged and Echo easily sidestepped.

“Careful, sweetheart. You’re likely to impale yourself and end the whole show,” Echo whispered. She stepped back and eyed Clarke, appearing to gauge what her next move should be. Raising her arm in a blatantly amateur move, she took two steps forward. Rather than bringing her arm downward in a way that would surely pierce Clarke near the back of her ribs, Echo brought her elbow in, forcing Clarke’s own dagger to pierce her just under her breastbone. The wound was shallow, but enough to draw blood. Echo pulled Clarke in close to her body and brought her mouth to her ear.

“Tell Bellamy we’re even,” she whispered, pushing Clarke away and holding her hand to the wound. She brought her bloody palm up and showed it to Ontari, then dropped to her knees.

“I’m sorry, Heda. I failed,” she called.

There was a gasp of surprise from the crowd. All eyes turned to Ontari, who rose slowly from her chair and approached them. Her face was a mask of rage.

“What the hell did you do?” she hissed at Echo, who kept her eyes lowered.

“She was the superior fighter, Heda,” Echo said. “I’ll accept my punishment.” She looked up at Clarke and quickly back to Ontari. “Your people appreciate the ways in which you follow tradition.” She rose slowly to her feet. “So I believe they are expecting you to present the victor with her prize.” This subtle directive to allow Clarke to leave with Bellamy in order to appear as a true commander was not lost on Ontari. She scowled and strode back over to Bellamy, yanking him to his feet and dragging him to Clarke. She handed her the leash.

“Enjoy him,” she said loud enough for the crowd to hear. “I certainly did.”

“Take the goddamn cuffs off of him,” Clarke said. Ontari unfastened a small chain with a key attached from around her neck and handed it to Clarke. Releasing the restraints quickly, Clarke threw them on the ground. She reached up behind his head and untied the gag. He kept his eyes on hers, his expression a mixture of gratitude and relief, but mostly love. He managed a small smile.

“Ready to go home?” she asked. He gave her a small nod as they turned to walk out of the arena. He glanced back at Echo and mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ before putting his arm around his wife’s waist and walking away.

They had cleared the crowd and made their way to a quiet street when he stopped walking.

“Bellamy, what is it?” Clarke asked.

“Murphy,” he responded. “We have to get him out, too. I’m not leaving without...”

“Indra’s taking care of it,” Clarke interrupted. “We’re meeting her outside of town.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “I promise.”

“Madi,” he said. “Is she..”

“She’s home with Octavia and Lincoln,” Clarke said. “She misses her dad.” That made him smile.

“I love you, Mrs. Blake,” Bellamy sighed. He hugged her close, breathing in the smell of her skin. “I’m so sorry.”

She pulled away from him and held his face in her hands. “I love you, too. You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said. “You hear me?” He nodded.

They continued walking until they reached a small stream.

“Let’s stop here and wait for Indra and Murphy,” Clarke suggested. “I want to clean you up a little bit.” She slipped out of her jacket and pulled her shirt over her head and soaked it in the stream, raising it to his chest to wash off all the body paint. Underneath she could make out the marks on his skin from Ontari’s crop. She traced her hand lightly along one, leaned in and kissed the torn skin gently. Bellamy raised his hand and cradled her head, holding her close against him. She could hear his heart beat, slow and strong, a rhythm she was intimately familiar with.

“Clarke, I have a lot to tell you,” he said. “About,” he stopped and took a deep breath. “About what happened to me at Mount Weather. I never told you everything.”

She took both his hands in hers. “I know.” He looked surprised. “Bellamy, it’s easy to tell you were traumatized,” she said. “And I knew you’d tell me when you were ready. I didn’t want to push you. But I’ll listen, whenever you want to talk about it.”

“I guess now is good,” he stuttered. He was shivering from the cold, or from nerves. Clarke scooted close to him and wrapped her jacket around both their shoulders. He began at the beginning, with the first days of his imprisonment, the first time Cage had assaulted him, and how it had progressed to torture. He described the medical experiments the best he could, and Clarke listened intently, alternately crying and cursing Cage Wallace for what he had put Bellamy through.

When he finished, he gave a heavy sigh. “It’s funny, but Murphy is the one who convinced me to tell you all this,” he said. Clarke smiled.

“Who’d of thought John Murphy would turn out to be so perceptive?” They both laughed.

“This place has changed us. All of us,” Bellamy replied. He bit his lip. “I want Murphy to come back with us, to Arkadia. I think he deserves a second chance.” He waited for her reply.

She nodded slowly. “You’re right,” she said. “We can be better. We can forgive.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

****************************************************************************

Murphy couldn’t make out what was happening in the arena, only that the crowd was making a lot of noise. If he squinted he could see the two figures in the middle, who he assumed were Clarke and Echo.

“Come on Clarke,” he muttered under his breath. “Get this done.” The fight didn’t last very long, and he couldn’t tell who had won. “Dammit,” he sighed. He jumped when he heard the door open behind him and turned swiftly to see Indra in the doorway.

“Indra, nice to see you again,” he quipped. He walked towards her and she grabbed him by the arm.

“We need to go,” she said. He pulled away from her.

“You always seem to be showing up and dragging me off somewhere,” he said. “I’m not leaving here without Bellamy.”

Indra scowled at him like she was trying to teach a petulant child. “Clarke won the fight. She has Bellamy and we’re meeting them outside of Polis. Ontari is in a really bad mood, so if I were you, I’d want to be gone before she gets back.”

“Fair point,” Murphy said, sprinting behind her as she ran back out the door. He followed her through a complex maze of tight corridors and stairwells and out a tiny narrow passage in the back of the tower. She didn’t stop running until they reached the woods on the outskirts of Polis. Murphy was panting as he caught up.

“How did you know that route through the tower,” he asked, gesturing behind him. “I didn’t know there was any other way out.”

“I spent my whole life in that tower,” Indra responded. “I was Lexa’s Second.”

“Oh,” Murphy said. “I...didn’t know.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry that she died,” he continued. “She was a great leader, from what I understand.”

Indra nodded. “There will never be another like her.” She stood up a little straighter. “Let’s move.”

In a short while they were on the path out of town. Indra motioned for Murphy to stop, and cocked her head, listening. Murphy heard it too, voices ahead.

“It’s them,” he said, bolting ahead of her. He stopped as he saw Clarke, Bellamy, Miller, Harper and Monty standing together in a small group. They all turned to look at him. He cast his eyes around hopefully for Emori, but she was nowhere to be seen. He took a tentative step forward but stopped when he saw the look of disgust on Miller’s face.

“This was a mistake,” he said to himself. He was about to turn around, when Bellamy approached him. Before he could say anything, Bellamy wrapped his arms around him and embraced him tightly.

“John,” he whispered. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Murphy hugged Bellamy back and then looked to the side. “I think some of you might be happier to see me than others.”

“Don’t worry about Miller. He’ll come around,” Bellamy said. He looked at Indra. “Thank you,” he said. She locked forearms with him and nodded. “You have it from here? I need to get back to Polis before I’m missed.”

Indra turned and separated from the group and they continued to walk until sunset. Bellamy didn’t leave Murphy’s side the entire day, making sure to include him in any decision that was made and making a place for him near the fire that night.

As they were all settling down for the night, Murphy pulled Bellamy aside.

“Do any of them know where Emori went?” he asked. Bellamy shook his head.

“Harper said she escaped the hut they were keeping her in. No one’s heard from her since.” He could see the sadness in Murphy’s eyes. “Hey,” he said, squeezing Murphy’s shoulder. “You’ll find her. We’ll get back to Arkadia and I’ll help you, ok? Once I get out of these ridiculous pants,” he laughed and gestured to the white pants he was still wearing, making Murphy laugh out loud.

“Well, I gotta say, it’s not a bad look.” Bellamy snorted and bumped his shoulder against Murphy’s own.

“Let’s get some sleep.”

That night Murphy lay awake long after everyone else was snoring softly around the remains of the fire. The inner conflict he’d felt all along this day was making itself known again. These people who lay near him, dreaming their dreams, thinking about returning to somewhere they considered home, they seemed like strangers to him. Except Bellamy. He watched Bellamy’s chest rise and fall as he slept deeply. The peace on his sleeping face was something Murphy wanted to memorize. He wanted to pull it inside himself and make it part of him. And he wanted more than anything to think that in at least some small way, he had made that peace come for Bellamy. He finally closed his eyes and dozed until first light.

By midday the next day, they were breaking into the clearing with Arkadia in sight. Bellamy held Clarke’s hand as they approached the gate. A guard noticed them and immediately ordered the gate open. Murphy had been following the group, keeping a short distance from them. For a brief moment, he sensed a presence near him, or watching him. He turned and scanned the tree line carefully. And then he saw her. Emori was standing on the edge of the trees, nearly invisible in the shadows. Bellamy noticed Murphy had stopped and turned back.

“Murphy, you okay?” he asked. He followed Murphy’s gaze and saw Emori in the distance. He looked back at Murphy and smiled. “You want to invite her in? She’s welcome.”

Murphy stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled back at Bellamy.

“You know, I think you’re gonna need a man on the outside. Maybe I should just keep an eye on you from here.”

“I understand.” Bellamy put his hand out and Murphy took it. “Thanks, John. If you ever need a friend...”

“I know, I know,” Murphy said. “Go on, your wife is waiting.”

Bellamy pulled him into a last embrace. “May we meet again.”

“May we meet again,” Murphy said. They pulled apart and turned from each other.

As Murphy reached the tree line he turned back and saw Octavia approach Bellamy and hand him a tiny little girl. Bellamy immediately lifted the girl in his arms and spun her around, making her squeal.

Murphy shook his head. “I’ll be damned,” he laughed to himself. Emori walked up to him and took his hand in hers. He smiled at her as she led him back into the forest.


End file.
